sidenote: thank you because most (if not all) of my growth as a poet can be traced right back here to you.

it airs tomorrow @ 11:30PM(est) on hbo.

i haven't seen the edited verison...so i'm not sure how i'll look or if the poem will flow with some of the sections they had to cut out due to time constraints.

but yeah, if you happen to be home and watching tv...check me out.

here's the rerun schedule: http://www.hbo.com/apps/schedule/ScheduleServlet?ACTION_DETAIL=DETAIL&FOCUS_ID=620949

and here's the unedited piece i did:

Same cell
(a love poem for women in prison )

time don't move
like tina's hands can
it don't even try to move like i do
while her pale brown lips pinched shut
manage to squeeze out a

"bitch, i said don't move" whisper

that takes up my half of the bed
with her freshly filed fingers finding space
in a prison hole not big enough for 2
not big enough for 3
yet she manages to fit her penis envy in
and she's got rhythm like a man
'cept her two step last longer
because she's not trying to cum

she trying to run

me
trying to find power in pussy
that belongs to neither of us any more
but i let her
continue to search for days on a calendar she scratched inside of me
she’s hoping to one day reach my womb
by her hands
so she can feel close to her children
without glass in between
she trying to touch her children
in me
not realizing that i left my eggs at home too
but I let her
try
because eventually she’ll stumble around my clit
and if i find the right angle to look at tina thru
then squint my eyes slightly
she starts to look like
one of them fine high yella boys that usta whistle my name
then i get quiet and pretend that one of them is loving me
with old spice heavy on his neck
and malted lips that i take to the head
drowning out my moans with silence

because dyke still ain't dick

regardless how much i imagine it to be
I am not a dyke
i just need someone to hold on to
to remind me what the world feels like
and i betcha tina wasn't no dyke when she was free
she probably didn't even like the smell that fell
past her knees
when she bent over for a love
she'd end up shooting
and now she's looking in pussy for a past time
because love has fucked up her memory
so much
that she calculates her children's ages by
the number of times she seen their faces
and one of them has been 2 for too long
but tina still holds on
to baby pictures faded at the edges with push pin marks at the top
to remind her
how many times she was up for parole
how many times she was packing her stuff to leave
and how many times she ended up pushing pins
back in
to these walls

so, yeah i let tina search in me
because we're in the same cell
made of the same plea bargains
that got denied before we tried
to explain to justice that we too were blinded
we two are binded
trying not to be bound
in past tense
because we're still young enough to remember what old is
and that’s why
i let her leave salt on my nipples as she tries and taste life again
let her find prayers on her knees
that stay between me and her
not worrying bout if gods/or guards are listening
or watching
because we got our eyes closed
grinding pussies
to the tune of time
hoping that if we rub them right
we'll get our wishes
or at least cum
closer to turning
moments into days.


Copyright © 2001 Aulelei Love. All Rights Reserved.


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