Scene II (for binyavanga)

November 24, 2015

in outerspace this morning sat a bird on my  headboard

twittering in a language they call love.

                  (binya, if love were an act, what would it look like?)

  suppose love were a verb that does, and outerspace a place

  would you get into this steel pipe and slide with me?

(i have a confession to make):

                                if i touch the plunger to brew coffee

                                or,

lift this phone to text and call

                                   or,

sit on this chair to fake work

or,

stay awake to not dream

  or,

think i aint thinking of you when i am

               everything leads me to you.

So, please tell me one thing:

can i love you out of this?

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