Kaulayaw
— an intimate companion
From words barely scribbled on paper,
and moments that are wished to be remembered.
My tongue dreams the chance to speak
a thousand poems all addressed to her
— just for her;
preserved and alive
past the dawn of time.
There is something so beautiful
in the way she listens
to my cry, my fear,
and my anger.
She does not hush me to sleep.
Instead, she keeps me up at night.
Thinking about divine interventions,
a magical procession; where all of our
despairs melt and mold like God’s clay,
to recreate life that is stripped away from
fears, cries, and anger.
At night I imagine the beauty of it all.
Our limbs tangled as if strings of galaxy,
colored golden and breaking daylight,
speaking destiny.
She battles a war underneath
the quilt of her sweater, with weapons
that shield over her parted hair.
She refuses to say I’m hers.
Instead, she whispers three little
sweet words that mean
the whole world
under dimmed lights
and early skies.
Like a hushed a lullaby;
longing and wavering.
She is not so brave after all.
For unravelling my love
cripples her bones
and screaming my name
puts her in the grave.
In the push and pull
amidst our defying anchor.
Where fear and regret fester
at the disguise of love
and assurance.
To my muse,
my love,
my only one:
Be afraid all you want,
Just never let me go.
Your sorrows bring me life,
your scars mend up mine.
Never let me go.
note: i wanted to give perspective about the constant and unavoidable fear many young, queer people experience that many times reflect on their relationships. thus, this poem was brought to life by my own insecurities that haunt me.
2023, Jafiyah
Q Street Poetry is an awesome publication looking for writers. Come join us!
