Thursday, October 20, 2011

new poem: kissed there myself

kissed there myself
my poem wears a skirt
& tells the truth
the only blush on her 
brushed on cinnamon 
her name
she shameless 
flaunts sequins clutches 
dutch wax headscarves
struts in hand painted clogs 
for comfort & fishnet stockings 
just because
my poem will 
turn her head if
you call oshun 
holds mirrors for court 
conch shell for microphone
wears midnight liquid eyeliner
what braves
chango storms & tears
what savors a lover’s searching 
what staves off
a stranger’s wet disses 
she river rocks the house regardless
tactile reflection
the only yellow on her a gift 
from an old worshipped sun
my poem 
borrowed one of frida’s skirts
gold dusted & seaweed hemmed
solar flared 
with five embroidered roses 
azure beads 
one pocket full of graphite pencils 
the other heavy with citrine & yes
skirt long 
to cover the stiffness of legs 
running in time 
with ella’s gibberish
saturday long 
to catch the wind like a monarch
the only stain on her my own
inky thumbprints
& the lipstick 
i kissed there myself
© 2011 by Lenelle Moїse


  1. This was entirely dope. You made me a fan with this.

  2. Yes! Poems love fans. Thanks for reading.