On The Verge of New:

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Many times, many times /till I had to give up the count
trying to love somebody/ let somebody love me
and there on the 23 bus stop
A slug crawling/ he trying to find it
Deeply his eyes rolled down into the sewer
slowly, softly/ can’t nobody here you
so dank, so much so
He gasped, I saw it in his eyes
been shot at the curb waiting for the 42 bus
its’ always late every Tuesday, around 6:30 it’ll be late
He might have lived if the bus came or somebody could’ve loved him
say man “don’t die, don’t fall like this”
too much of that happening so what another blk man dead

but I wanted to tell my awaiting self
hug your self/ ain’t nobody got time
loving myself
talking to myself
reaching myself
holding myself
smiling back at me
lending me out to other folks for a short while
until I needed myself again
this is plenty
this is love
calming finger-tips

calming wrinkles
calming eyes
calming lashes
calming whisper
calming pains
this is me, alive~kindness sis. Krissy

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Published by: Visionariekind

Krissy Mosley is a story-teller. Recalling stories to build bridges of peace. A folklorist to bring sounds of joy and healing vibrations. Krissy Marie is a writer /feminist, mother advocating for change surrounding women’s rights and women's’ issues.

Categories Poetry2 Comments

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