I weary of the orifice
of your artifice-
An opaque visage
Shrouded by mists,
And interlocking caverns
With hidden facets.
I hope to unearth
Your treasures-
Inhale your poisons-
Baby, can we go deeper?
I wish to explore your shadows,
Taste your secrets firsthand,
solely primarily-
I won’t take any sloppy seconds.
Baby, can you handle the pressure?
Will you crack like
an unfertilized egg,
As you take the hot seat?
Sizzle or scramble,
Fight or flight, I know,
I know you are nervous,
apprehensive,
But trust me, baby,
I just need to know.
You take many skins
A skin-walker from legends,
dressed
In rotting flesh
And howling at the
Waning moon.
When I approach you,
A brilliant beast
With survival on your mind-
Don’t hide from me,
Your stripes and spots-
Flip the switch, hide baby hide,
You are an expert, master
Did you ever think of retiring?
You must be weary,
Before you fade,
Leave me in the dark-
Give me the key,
To your heart and soul.
Mecca-Amirah Jackson 