Ladies I am sure you can agree that occasionally the thought comes; Should I? Should I not? He looks good, he smells good, he speaks real good english, educated and damn he can dance after all.
And a brother hasn't asked me out since, well, it's been along time. Okay so alot of them drive taxis and work at the convenience store that's okay, this is not him. He works with me...
...He sits near me. I can hear his music playing from his computer. When he talks to me I watch his eyes, his lips, and I feel like I'm doing something bad; looking back at him that way. But it feels good. You know that feeling good gets you in trouble sometime? But I digress. Here is this man asking me out, and by all measures he is someone who you should definetly say yes to. But you are hindered, shackled and afraid that some brotha is going to stop you dead in your tracks with one of those looks. The look that is supposed to slap you into reality and back in your place. Waiting for him. But my mama raised a revolutionary and that didn't apply to just holding up my fist and waving it around and picking out my afro to blackgongus proportions, it meant a heart that couldn't be bound, or taught to behave. I go for it. I risk it. And yes the looks do come.
As he and I stroll down the street his arm around my waist, mine encircling him. I get the first stare and it steadies me and makes me want to fight. And then I feel him weaken under my hand, a bit, he doesn't get it. He says to me, "I'm black" I say to him, "no, you're not black" but you sure as hell aren't white, don't worry about it, they are haters." But it bothers him. He isn't sure of what foot he's stepped on or what path he's crossed by being with me. He doesn' t want to offend but he also has the mans drive to pursue and I was the prey. It really is that, isn't it? I enjoy his cooking, his company, and his laugh and the way he calls me "Piyari" (beloved). But that verge stuff; I just have to say sista's have it too. So tell me what is the verdict? Let me preface this question with a statement from my heart; I don't care. He will be one, and maybe two but who cares?
I will do as I do to count off days and months and calendar pages.
And in between those days I will have some love.