I'm in Love with This Poem

As Long As I'm With You
written by Sekou (tha misfit)

“can u come out to play with me?
i know this spot – it’s real cool
i don’t care what we do,
as long as i’m with u.

can u come get away with me?
please please, i’ll be your best friend
i’ll even hold your hand,
as long as i’m with you.”

When we met
The magic in your eyes was so captivating
I didn’t want to offend you by staring at them
So I forced myself to look at your breasts instead …
(so as not to disrespect.)

Some call it love at first sight.

For me, it was love at 2^nd kiss.
Suddenly I was all pimple-faced / voice-cracking / 7^th-grader
Pedaling full-speed on my Huffy with the banana seat
toward your house
to ask your mama if you could come out to play,
for good.
I had this secret spot I wanted to take you to called our future
It was so cool!
And I couldn’t help myself,
There was something
funny-greeting-cardish about you

You made me laugh out loud / in quiet places

Different from the other girls on the playground
You actually said things like “Thank You”
It had been so long since I’d had a woman fluent
in the lost language of appreciation
That by the time our 3-month bell rang
I was ready to trade in my Pokemon cards
and hold your hand at recess / I was smitt’n
…but with the hip-hop spelling.
(You know there’s always a hip-hop spelling.)

And what we got going then has been got going steady
Since your eyes slid that note across the table to me
on crumpled binder paper
with purple crayon cursive
and 4 life-altering words:
Do you like me?
(check: Yes or No?)
I said “No.”
… I lied.

So here we are,
Trying to play grownup now
and not break up over tetherball fights.
And that ain’t always a piece of red velvet cake

Because sometimes, woman, you
are my oversized multivitamin:
a lump of hard to swallow good for me
And sometimes you’re the q-tip in my ear:
orgasmically bad for me
But in the end / my little bran muffin /
You move me.

So punch in your initials sweetheart,
You made the high score.
See, you rhyme with me,
and I find that pretty dang cool

It took us three years,
but we finally learned to Tivo our drama
and make commercial-free love
We got rid of the junk mail between us.
Now, we’re all bills and checks
And so long as our checks stay big enough to cover our bills
your hand has got a home in mine.

I know it seems like I write less poetry about you these days
But know this:
I write you less now
because I live you more
Anyone can make alchemy of the first few months
But I am edge of my seat over the poem I shall write
of our first ten years
And though still 6 years from a first draft,
I’m very much enjoying the research.

For I’ve finally learned the language of your moans
That one means come to bed, baby
That one means I sure wish you were asking me about my day
instead of watching reruns of Alias
And that one … mmmm … well this ain’t that kinda poem
(I think your momma might be listening)
Let’s just put it like this:
You said you’d let me play in your toy-box if I promised not to get you dirty
I promised.
… I lied.

I’m just a man, honey
And last night you feel asleep in a position
like you were dreaming of making snow angels
I couldn’t help but climb into bed with you
and dream of being snow.

We slept wet.

And I woke up still drunk off your tongue
and well hung
over.
And though I may not always remember,
I always know how I got home.
You / my permanent designated driver
Wherever you are is where I
was going anyway

You are Chico Stick, Cherry Now & Later, and Boston Baked Beans
With music box eyes that sing from distant
like the ice cream man approaching,
Skin that tastes like you have a chewy caramel center
And the best smile this side of heaven
And-- damn you for walking past me naked!

(… why was I mad at you, again?)

I can’t concentrate with your calves and shoulder blades
peeking at me through cracked bathroom doors
And I’d sooner be late
Than ever say the words
“hurry up get dressed baby”

You make me want to shove my face
into the warm laundry of your basket
and sniff your bounce
until you and me are static free--

… And I don’t really know what means
(And I don’t really need to.)

All I know is
Yes, I was late to work today
because last night my baby and I played house so long
that the power went out for three blocks
So this morning my alarm didn’t go off.
My boss demanded an apology
I said I’m sorry.
… I lied.

You Should be Too,
B