I thought we were building stone castles
a serious limerick
you admitted you wouldn't have cheated on me if I wasn't a Black woman and that day
I showed you Lemonade since I thought it could say all the things I couldn't say
about how since girlhood I had prepared for this inevitability, heart etched like mattoir
still, I thought I could build us back up like Beyoncé and teach you about misogynoir
but, as I found out, sandcastles don't work out that way
About the Creator
R.C. Taylor
Part-time daydreamer. Full-time dork.
Follow along for stories about a little bit of everything (i.e. adventure, nostalgia, and other affairs of the heart, and anything else I want to honor and hold space for).
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One Minute to Noon
“OK, guys!” I screech over the macaw-like chatter in my sophomore English class. My students are sharing mementos they accumulated during summer vacation. The assignment is to interview each other and write an expository essay about another student’s treasure: Misty’s coquina shells and sand dollars from Florida, Ruth’s two Navajo pottery mugs from New Mexico, Roxy’s perfume from Paris, Kevin’s chocolate from Hershey Pennsylvania, a picador’s sword from a bullfight in San Fermin Spain, where one of my favorite students, Manny Pérez, ran with the bulls at festival.
By Lacy Loar-Gruenler6 days ago in Fiction
Comments (2)
This is awesome, RC, as usual. Packed full of so much raw emotion. That first line sunk me though. If that's autobiographical...I am sorry that happened! Great work with this poem.
Love this song. Great poem.