I was 12 at Camp You a Councilor a 17

Cool as that Grape cool aid I used to get for the table when all us kids would eat.

I loved you at six foot five seems like I came up to your belt buckle

when we walked side by side

Fine Wavy hair parted to the side

Neat as a Harlem Black Muslim

Singing harmonies

playing basket ball

Riding your ‘’Trac’’ bike with no hands

On cool Bronx nights

So Proud of Dwight.

These were days before tears

And complicate pain

These were Ice cream days and Respect

before the feeling of an interpretation of what ‘’Love was supposed to be

Not to be mistaken with Innocents we lived in the hood were ’’Innocents’’ was Born a Sucker.

So Proud of Dwight

Is say you were my Boyfriend but I was to young

To many secrets I couldn’t scar you with even at 12

You’d go an hurt someone

Always there when I called

Always there jumping few Boroughs with that bike

To Manhattan to talk tough if I had a few wild testosterone tuff guys tested my tomboy.

I like the quiet sensual learning love making

And Quiet affection trapped in a gentle child’s dream.

Then He went to the NAM

5 years Later. .I lied to my boyfriend of 4 years at 17

stealing away from Manhattan

On a Criminally Cold Black

WASHINGTON D.C. night I could feel in the

Hard Loneliness somehow I’d return there..

Less than 2 years later

In ‘’10 10 Prison’’

On the butt side of the capitol building

and the front side of a razor across my throat when I was asleep

The Home of the ‘’Artful Scarrer ’ ’

Everything you are taken in a Scumbags hand

little did I know then….

when I walked in the Hotel

So Proud of Dwight

a Lieutenant Hadn’t aged a day no a scratch

5 years in the Nam,said he loved it said he’d go back tomorrow…

Then something happened

no air a soul paralled universe

Reflected in the other mirror of my past the

present was

A black hole where not even Light could escape

It wasn’t Dwight.

he talked just in General

He took off his shirt and the flawless soft skin

I saw souls like tattoos begin to appear on his flesh

His survival at the mercy of Hundreds killed in war

I saw old women , baby’s ,shop owners, farmers, peasants faces

Whores with razor blades in their cunts, and bombs in their purse.

Kids with grenades in fruit..

Knives in boots

Ambushes in the dark throats cut..

Dwight was ugly beneath the skin

I smelled the Murderer, the repression

he was straining to keep hidden his face to keep normal

To speak to me a certain way…

I almost reminded him of a Past of who he was.

I was afraid of him

Didn’t trust him

the more he spoke i was in a trance of hell

his words acid trapping me in a circle of fear. he was like a man who’s whole body was tattooed with peoples faces disfigured in screams for their life imprinted whelps all over his body frozen in time.

As we lay in the bed.I tried not to stiffen.

‘’Your old enough to take it all now huh.’’

All I could say was a dry distant ‘’yeah.’’

There was nothing I wanted to take

And that’s where he slipped where the Voice of the beast

Verified I was just another whore with a razorblade in her cunt.

I didn’t sleep the few hours..

He said he’s going to the base and hell be back in a few hours

But Dwight was gone along time ago a Caged Cruel

animal trembled in him comfortably squatting down in my conciseness replacing

Affection and respect, admiration

with a curse

Me a pawn to return

Me a Pawn trapped in fear

A Pawn to add in the belly of the beast

Dwight to live with the many other nightmares theta would be the game pieces of Hate and abuse to come.

When The car left.

I was showered and out in 15 minutes

I tried to carve a day with the sunlight and tell myself

Its just because he didn’t smile,

or that he talked in a low monotone,

or he had nothing to talk

about or know how to relate

Or that he’d simply ’’changed’’

But that wasn’t it.

It wasn’t Dwight

Murder Changes everybody

When got back home I stayed at my mothers house for a few days

I got a bill for the hotel

No note

No letter

No thanks for coming to DC

Nothing

What could he say He wasn’t Dwight and I knew it.