Natalie

i.

I told her
If she were a planet
She would be earth
Self sufficient
And two thirds magic


ii.

Wendy,
how many windows
have you left open
for half grown men
to be able to steal
slivers of you?

you are the kind of woman
little girls never dream of becoming
but should,
just to say
they learned to fly on whims
beamed light
in littered alleys
laughed so hard and long
you did not know
if your body was
weeping or celebrating
schools should teach
to love the way that you do
half beast half mother-like
you,
are the space between lips
the rush of air from the pit of gut
hands. extended.

I find myself wanting to be a reversed tinker bell
Never jealous of lost boys loving you
But of the shadows you tie unto the heels
Of their broken feet

Fuck peter pan
And his never land
you were never meant
to be a creature of story books
earmarked and shelved
you, dear friend,
belong to the living.

The hustle and bustle
The blue sky smog
Car horns and saxophones
White floors
And red lips
Living

No fairy dust
The freckles
On your cheek
Are enough
Magic

Wendy,
Close your windows
Slowly
Folding into yourself

Peter pan
Will never understand
How women as real
As you
Are the wonderland
He’s so desperate
To never return from.

*(photograph by fisseah w. moges) poem for my dear friend/mentor Natalie *