Esme and Zami

Esme and Zami are siamese twins
Esme, the temperament of water, fell in love with whirlwinds:

The secrecy held in the world beneath the ocean.
After admiring the girl in the reflection she dove in

Living far beneath the surface, returning for fireflies in summer
Sometimes just to listen to the city’s rooftop raindrop drummers.

Zami, the temperament of fire, her blood runs close to her skin
At the bald of her hands and feet feel the rush of cold sin.

One night she awoke breathless, off her body cold sweat dripping
She ran out of space and slowly the walls crept in.

Anxious for air and with fervor in her muscles
Leaping for the night, scaling over walls and fences, Esme became bionical.

Esme and Zami are siamese twins
No overnight miracle of a mischievous nymph.

There was time for a breath between days for a hush
And defeat to soak itself at the root of a purpose.

Hear it escape in a wail, a laboring sigh to playful fantasies
Masked in the ringlets of an occasional lover’s kisses.

Zami was leaping over water over two nights
Stopping to rest, finding shade from the moon light

Under the thick yellow of a poui tree in bloom
Catching breath, crouching to her knees, smelling Esme’s perfume.

Blue moss, wild strawberries decorated her
The dancing Esme muses on stories told by her mother.

Tightly closing her eyes, she keeps the music to herself
Repeating the words in a lullaby.

Her mossy blue arms reach for no one
But the gentle caress of the ocean.

Zami bemused, came closer to the moon
Caught by Esme’s mystery about her lips, about her blue nakedness.

She found pleasures so much so she had forgotten
About walls and fences to scale, but found comfort in this harbinger.

Finally she held her breath and dipped her head in.
Surprised Esme, but not afraid she smiled and began to sing

Tal vez amor
Tal vez tu debes mi amor

Saber como nadar
Saber como nadar

Antes de hundir
Tu cabeza en mi agua.

Esme and Zami, they are siamese twins
Joined to the heart and mind ever since

Zami found shade from the moonlight
Under the blooming poui tree one night.

Letting go of the tree branches
Letting go of her fences

She relaxed and extended her arms
Looking up to face the moon shining

She pushed her chest out to embrace
The currents.  To kiss the waves.



Bisexual is a term I hear
while i’m unsure of the direction
the song is going to take
but then, I’m reassured by the chorus
that i’m straight
I’m okay now

Terry, this woman that I work with, she’s a dyke
button down shirt and tie, slacks, polished black shoes dyke
now i don’t have a problem with the gays
it’s just that Terry’s girlfriend looks just like me
pumps, pencil skirts, manicured nails, lipstick, pearl necklace
I wasn’t expecting this, it’s like a song with a familiar beginning
you know, something you can bob your head to, you know
and then all of a sudden it changes, and i’m unsure of the direction
the song is going to take…  So I hold on for the chorus, for some kind of refrain:
i’m straight, i’m okay now.

she’s a dyke
button down
shirt and tie
slacks, polished
black shoes, dyke

a song with a familiar beginning
you know, something you can
bob your head to, you know

her woman looks
just like me
i wasn’t expecting
pencil skirt
manicured nails
lipstick, pearl necklace

I wasn’t expecting this bridge
this change in melody
irregular, I pause for the chorus
for some kind of refrain…

I am straight
I am, okay now

Bisexual is a term I listen to

About Chameleon Grace

Chameleon Grace is a novel that I’ve been working on for quite sometime. I figured if I just put it out there that I’d finally finish it. At the very least, it isn’t just collecting dust on my hard drive anymore. Here’s a little background:

Now transitioning into a new life in New York City, twenty-six year old Njeri Ironside finds herself at a crossroads. As she battles with isolation and displacement, she begins to question her purpose in the city. Her ruminations lead her to memories of her past, growing up in Trinidad, particularly during the period when the country was experiencing dire socio-economic and cultural change. It was a time where her father, a beloved trade unionist, prominent political figure, is at the center of controversy.

Her memories are however clouded by a desire for revenge against an ex-lover, Pieta.

With the lost of Pieta and the community she created in D.C., Njeri is left not knowing where she really belongs, and at times incapable of reconnecting the pieces from the subgroups she had previously niched out for herself in D.C.: black/masculine/woman/Caribbean/dyke/lesbian/working class in the Americas.

Dedicated to my mother.

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