Alexandra Watson, Sugar & Salt

I.

I do not speak the language of your tongue
But I’ve read between the new lines in your skin.
The sea woven in your wild hair tells all.
I’m mourning the flesh of you, the sores from
Heat moisture contact companions
Rope burns at ankles & wrists.
You arrive with new blood on your dress,
They sniff you like dogs and write the date.
I tell you everything I can with eyes,
Making small promises i’m dying to keep
To save you one row of cane
To build you one moment of peace.

II.

Sweat bead suspended at your eyebrow gleams,
The one jewel of my crown.
My mind will be first to taste its coconut salt.
One drop rolls and trembles on your lip &
Your tongue flicks up to catch it.
I die a salty death on your top lip.
A sweat & palm frond love,
The oil inside your midnight skin.
Coconut & pineapple flesh, sticky rum.
A fruited love, sugarsweet, canewhipped.
A tastedriven sugarcane love in the soil.

III.

I give up sleep to walk 12 miles at dark to you
You guide my fingers to your dampness
I swell & ache from days without you
I have you on the ground and your dress stays on
You hold your hips up to not get soil inside,
I part your mouth with mine and only then
Do I taste blood and feel the swell of your lip
But it’s too late to ask or to worry about
A body not mine to love or yours
I collapse, whipped by the look and the salt in your eye.
And you by the sugar in mine

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