Book: of love

THE FIRST NIGHT

Thay say a lot.

and with their heart, they say.

so I say a little. and with my heart, I pray. I pray for the pain. that they say nothing about. I giggle so that I don’t cry. scream. harass them into submission of a kind. we both show up empty-handed. but because of the words that occupy our space we don’t notice. what is easily seeable. I inhale. She exhales. a heart shared. between two of a kind. the pleasure I feel, she begs for me to feel more. the power she yields, makes me soft. softer. and nicely whipped, ready to please. begging to be teased. slurred. pulled. and played with. all night.

I didn’t see her eyes to be honest. I still couldn’t tell you their color. but the way she infused her words with concentrated. pure. organic. lust. her eyes did not matter. I needed to feel her. feel me quiver. with the purest ache from the most natural source. that aged virgin. needing to be touched for the very first time. eager to please. to bend to the will of delicious pleasure. I was a gift. like no other.

She came to the door. I saw her legs, from the corner of my eyes, out the passenger car window as I was gathering my purse and deciding to leave my jacket in the car. I needed to focus, lock door I reminded myself as my body begin to buzz. lightly with anticipation. and fear. What if..i begin, closing the door and as I turned to face her I felt the rumblings of a giant generous genuine smile flow up my face towards my eyes. damn near, surprising my anxiety that was more than ready to fill in the brief quiet moment before my eyes met her being. To be really honest, I don’t know if I saw legs. for all I know, she was floating. All I knew was, I breathed easier when we came face to face.

A BEGINNING

My father used his voice to sing a song that was not considered music. He shared abundantly, and this gift called others to pray. the sound he released welcomed humans back to their heart. in community. Let’s pray together. he cherished and celebrated prayer. and when we heard his call. when he shared the Adhan. we welcomed the change or at the least was less grumpy to stop to prepare for connection. all done by the body. Rasheed Shabazz was the name he chose. he traveled from Louisiana to California. in a black body. male presenting. dark and joy filled.

my name. Hadiyah Shabazz means guide to righteousness eagle leader. I see journeyss to the heart. and I offer, crafted from love, beauty, discipline and play, an energy exchange towards loving yourself. beyond what can be imagined. but one must believe in their soul. and live in their heart. to make their way. to goodness. they must be willing to fall, trusting the wings they can not see. I am a daughter of a father whose voice naturally soothes. whose presence warms. who else could I have become. truly. pure because of the dirt. we all make sense. at the beginning. like a butterfly, fresh in their rebirth. our peace is inherent. Our virtue was never in jeopardy. I experience the world through rhythm and beats. maybe due to the first sounds I heard. my father at my fresh-out-the-womb-ear, reciting the Azan and Iqamah.

OWL. HOW MANY LICKS

beyond what I can imagine. make love to life.

Life is shit, but that is not original enough for the crowds of false individuals. No it needs more grit. more grim and bangy bits. I need to paint a dish that taste of sorrow that dips. Dips deep into the depths of the pretend wilds because feeling the shit in their own life feels too intense. so I extend the imagination, and they think they feel. talking quick. numb body bingers binge the time away. clinging to tightness. Tightness aLL day. tightness until it is considered normal. the normal that can only break. not bend.

When I am not clinching. I’m gushing. I’m constantly wet.