Flats and Heels

Kelli Mack in “keep going” photographed by H. Reigns


I want to be able to walk with my head held high.


I want to be able to sleep at night.


I want to be loved.

I want to feel loved.

But first, I must be love

And give love.

One cannot be so abrasive and negative,

If you want softness and positivity.

Don’t think that a man is going to feed off of your memories. 

He is not going to remember

That how your mind works is amazing,

Or that your peach is sweeter then any others.

He won’t remember that you could soothe him 

Away from his childhood 

And away from his mother.

Their love is short term.

But yours was meant to be everlasting.

You birth the future,

Because your passion is surpassing.

And everything about you is beautiful,

And the woman next to you is beautiful,

And instead of competing,

Be complementary. 

Be soft and free together.

Sometimes we were flats.

Sometimes we wear heels.

It just depends on our weather.

The mystery of our magic will endure

As long as we weather this together.



Gianni Turner in ” what’s right, what’s wrong, & what’s you” photographed by H.Reigns

There must be a better way…

To find acceptance in love is fleeting.

To find acceptance in sex is misleading.

But still,

We spread our legs and spread ourselves thin.

Just to experience the richness and fullness of being together,

But note that just because you are being filled,

doesn’t mean that you are fulfilled within.

Just because the two bodies come together again,

Does not mean that you are one.

There’s got to be a better way to prove our love.

Open gateways signal the point of no return.

Caution signs look like yellow sun flowers.

The sun doesn’t always look like it will burn.

I am being split three ways.

I know what’s right, what’s wrong, and what’s you.

The truth about my trio seems to change day by day.

At night you seem to ignore the things to say by day.

My soul screams it tells me the costs that I pay to play.

But the aches of my desires phase the eclipse and devour me anyway.

There must be a better way…

Kind Words

Jay Johnson Jr. in “Contemplating” photographed by H.Reigns

How hard is it to speak a kind word

To someone in need?

Especially if they are in a situation,

That is a duplication 

Of one of your own?

Would it have made a difference to you

When you weathered your storm?

By spiritual law,
Aren’t you now required?

To lead the masses through 

The issues that you’ve passed?

Or are you too wrapped up in 

Whatever you have going on now?

The peace you had,

Was just a piece and did not last.

Perhaps it could not grow,

Because you did not plant it, my love?

You did not place it in the strong firmament.

You did not water it, 

You did not bring it to the light.

You did not nurture it,

You did not shelter it 

From the cold at night.

You were supposed to turn it 

From a few to many

And feed others, 

So that they could do the same,

And instead of walking with our hands held out,

We would be walking in a field of dreams.

But, instead, 

you do, what we have often done.

We pluck it, put it on display.

Either hide it from the sun

Or show it off for fun

Taunt the ones who don’t have one.

And judge, why they werent able to receive it.

If I told you that their destruction

Was really one of your own

Facing withdrawals from a sweet chant

Would you believe it?



” I Wish” photographed by H. Reigns

I wish you knew how good this feels

I can’t make you understand my perspective…

You were built to be a giver

And I was built to be receptive 

I was built to be selfish

To open anything  

And demand 

That you give me everything 

It’s petty to say I’m jealous 

Of your capabilities 

Of your capacity and tenacity 

To fuck away my very atmosphere

And turn my past into tragedy

Because I never knew that my

Savory blossom could sway

Like the lotus in the China pond

Floating in mid day

You have my body

So out of body 

It’s like I’m in mediation 

Where else could I go but here

You leaving me in desperation 

All the derogatory degradation 

That’s spilling from my pores

Is pleading to fuck me harder 

Just fuck me till there’s no more

No more space in the time continuum 

Exploded stars shards on the floor

I wish you could experience the experience 

Of how good it is to be sore.


“So what” photographed by H.Reigns

My eyes are low like I’m sleepy
Laying in serendipity 

I am asking myself questions.

Is it the liquor that has me feeling so open?
Is it this taste that lingers on my lips

Making me lose focus?

Imagining some things.


I can’t keep thinking about these types of situations.

Ghostly shadows of Christmas future implications 

My breathing is experiencing fluctuations.

I’m wondering, 

What would happen though?

What would happen,

If I were to let myself completely go?

To feel everything that it is possible to feel?

To love them all?

To love the people who said they loved me?

And to love the people who never cared for me,

Without the threat of what it will do to me in the process.

Would I be happy and free

Or be a glutton in excess?

Insatiably, as the fiend lives

I would never stop it

and like a thick and grimy coat

I would pout and sulk about it

How would I ever be fine?

Never satisfied 

is what insatiable is


“Submission” photographed by H.Reigns

A revolution of words

A revolution of swords

Lyrics wounding us to the core

For all who have overheard


The revolution has come

Say it again

The evolution of sons


We have to fight as one

Say it again

Weapon of choice is love

Bells ringing at the dawn

March together Sisters, as one

Cause our brothers are being slung

Descendants of brothers that were hung


The revolution has come

Say it again

The evolution of sons


We have to fight as one

Say it again

Weapon of choice is love

The bass line is hurting

Looking for forgiveness  

The bridge is singing murder

And killing all of the witnesses 


The revolution has come

Say it again

The evolution of sons


We have to fight as one

Say it again

Weapon of choice is love

The x’s of Luthers cry in the park

Hips swaying catching the Vibe

When all is the dust has cleared

Let’s pray to Make it out alive


The revolution has come

Say it again

The evolution of sons


We have to fight as one

Say it again

Weapon of choice is love

Say it again

Lord protect us


The Wetness

“Sip” photographed by H. Reigns

I’m having a hard time

Keeping my legs together.

I’m shifting and swaying in my seat.

Pressing the space that’s messing with me,

From my feet up to my knees.

Maybe if I can squeeze tighter,

Then she will stop dripping.

Try as I may to silence her,

Her vocals flow freely,

And she speaks words

That soak into my dreams.

They flood my senses,

And send my triggers to extreme.

There’s no need to rush.

Even the slightest touch,

Has me being someone.

I’m not supposed to be.

Swishing and stirring 

Because she is purring.

Then seeps out through more pores.

She started it,

But she doesn’t finish it.

The wetness is all over, 

And will rule forevermore.