you can spring up any feeling in me
you want to, yet I will stand-fast
to my belief that I am and will always be
right. you may try to defeat me
w/ your qualms and daily debates
of what is and what was, but I
am and will always be immovable.
you're slick with it though,
that sly smile has no end-point, and I
fall for it every, single time. it is
in your mind that I rest my
thoughts of redemption and ask for
forgiveness for a past you know nothing
of. it is in your heart that I offer
a portion of me and leave my lust
there for a chance to blend with its
very beating. you have questioned my
feelings for you on more than
one occasion and I have praised your
name even in your absence.

yet, you're still jealous. there is nothing
I can do to prove my point and
my hands have grown weary from
fighting you. so, in the midst of
quarrels and side-shows at our dinner
table, I have removed my voice from
your ears, sealed it in an envelope, and
bagged it up for safe-keeping. it is no
longer yours to worship. you try my
patience with your crisp words and
fuck me weekly with under-handedness
and I arise more powerful than God's
great wrath. you are my muse, so terribly
haunting, yet so amazingly fragile. I
live for your faults, they keep me
alive.

©Tremaine L. Loadholt


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Gray hair is
God's graffiti ©Bill Cosby