The Senses

Misa Donovan leaned against the doorway of her balcony and closed her eyes, on a day like today the memories attacked her senses. Most of the time she could avoid them but on occasion, when she feels lonely they would assail her. She could almost taste the sweetness of his skin. She inhaled and it was as if she could smell freshly brewed Blue Mountain coffee and the Caribbean Sea. Misa could feel the cool breeze blowing across her bare back and the sunshine bronzing her skin as surely as if she was still standing on the shores of Montego Bay.  She could see the smooth caramel thighs that lay stretched across the bed tangled in crisp white sheets like mountains against clouds. Today as the wind blew she could hear his laugh while picturing him seated at the table drinking Red Stripe his smile bubbling over his lips.

On the really bad days, he never leaves her mind. It’s as if he packed himself in her luggage along with the rest of her things. He has invaded her senses and she carries him with her everywhere.




My Truth to Tell

I tried to tell her that the price you pay for days and nights

spent tangled in twisted limbs isn’t worth the price

Tried to warn her that the freedom to wear short skirts, heels up to your eyes

and see through blouses won’t even begin to mend old hurts

won’t call back harsh words, turned backs, and lovers leaving when you

need them most

She thinks I’m jealous cause I’ve lived through it all, been rode hard (plenty of times)

smoked and drank until night became day and my voice raspy with unshed tears and grief


I tried to tell her that all she has in this world is her name and her worth

and she can’t sell that for whispered words of love

or hours of pleasure in trembling thighs

Tried to warn her that she needs to use her “brain” for attaining knowledge

not sucking penises

She thinks I’m a hypocrite cause I’ve been there (plenty of times)

Loved a man so hard that his foreskin became my forehead and my throat swollen shut


I tried to tell her that just because a man has his own

car (BMW, Range Rover, Benz), house, and high thread count sheets

that he occasionally allows her to lounge in

it doesn’t mean that he’s willing to share anything with her except those moments generated in calls at 2:45 am when he knows you’ll come

Tried to warn her that she is more than a woman lying on her back

looking at the ceiling wondering how she could let him inside her after the words he said and being called outside her name


I tried to tell her that if she looks under that low self esteem, the generational curses, and molestation

She will discover that anyone who denies her in the daylight isn’t worth her time

I tried to warn her that the man who doesn’t care enough to protect either of them

Is the same man who’ll will deny her child too even when

He is 99.9% the father


These young girls today don’t listen to nothing

so I just speak my piece; let them figure it out

When fists begin to hit or as one man after another leaves

I just watch from my stoop as they gain wisdom and morph

From young things to queen bees

secure in their femininity