By Saida Agostini
In sixth grade, we ran thru the buses stuck
our heads out windows screaming out jodeci songs
until our lungs collapsed into hoarse silence
burnt marshmallows in woods and hid out
behind cabins till someone’s mom found us
and dragged us back into sour smelling beds
We held hands/and even then a flat chested
big cheeked little girl I wanted to cry out at
the wind and smoked sky/our voices joined up
in words only my body understood the edges of/
I wanted to love wildly/push my lips up into
another girl’s face and taste the whole beat of
her/till we understood jodeci’s song like it
had come up from us/i held it in/bit back any part of
love that wasn’t straight/til it was too big to hold
i want to love you like this/like little boys don’t
get killed for wearing pink/as if bodies of trans
women and men don’t litter trash cans like an
explosion of war/as if we are together in
some other land only dangerous in joy/your
hand blooming in mine/singing sweet sweet
home
Saida Agostini is a black queer poet, clinician and youth worker. She has released several chapbooks, her latest Hunger, was released in 2011. If you are interested in contacting Saida as a performer, please feel free to contact her at saida.agostini@gmail.com
