
20 Minutes to Go
Miquéla Thornton
I watched as my mother dipped the comb into the fire
The bronze color engulfed in the cerulean blue flames
Curls calmed, coils straight she desired
Hot comb to roots tediously until each tendril tamed
My hair must be neat
I sat on phone books atop the tallest chair
In her hands, the combs and brushes went wild
Evanescing each entwine, perm to my hair
For straight is synonymous with neat, tidy and styled
My hair must be neat
I confess that maybe it burned
Behind my ears maybe it scarred
Despite that, I quickly learned
That straight wasn’t so hard
My hair must be neat
I didn’t have to break my brushes to detangle
I didn’t have to lay gel down my hair pulled back
I didn’t have to use curls to manipulate and mangle
I didn’t have to deal with another part of being Black
My hair must be neat
20 minutes to go Hair resembles a mop plunged into water
Arranged in a messy, lopsided afro
Not the hair of my mother’s daughter
My hair must be neat
10 minutes to go
I broke yet another brush
I took off 10 bristles in a row
Handle snapped clean off in a rush
My hair must be neat
5 minutes to go
Just to put it in a “ponytail”
Can’t go out looking “ghetto”
Because then my mother failed
My hair must be neat
3 minutes to go
Comb, pull, yank, curls go from thick to thin
I’m confident, even pretty, from the roots it flows
Mom says, “It looks as if cats sucked on the ends”
My hair must be neat
2 minutes to go
It looks like cats clawed through the mats
So I swallow my pride and tie it back with a bow
Fabric so pretty next to the ugly tangles and naps
My hair must be neat
1 minute to go
I quickly snatch a hat and my backpack
I hear the horn, the bus is close
Yet no hat is big enough for hair that’s Black
Constellations
Miquéla Thornton
You’ve got stars in your eyes
Shining jewels in your irises
I fail to divine why
Yet you allure me in
Constellations lining the creases
Lashes luminescent, linear like Orion’s Belt
I stare and assemble the pieces
And wipe the solitary tears that spilled
Zodiacs in your eyes, spiraling in pattern
So perfect, as if Galileo mapped them himself
Circling the pupils like the rings of Saturn
Outshining bruises around them, scratches, welts
Iris, a burnette umber: quartz
Sclera, a white ivory: pearls
Pupil, an inky ebony: onyx
Gorgeous eyes with lashes curled
Those eyes keep deep secrets
Stories they’ve yet to tell me
I can’t help that I stare at them frequent
Enchanting, mesmerizing, entrancingly
You’ve got stars in your eyes
Nothing seems to dull them
Nothing can ever undermine
The constellations conjured of gems
I Can’t Read Notes (Take 4)
Miquéla Thornton
I lay on the carpet floor
Belly down, feet swinging in the air
I get up, go to sit next to you, I adore
Two people, four legs close in the chair
Ti adoro
You play a song by a composer, Italian
Maybe French, I wasn’t taking in each word
Too focused on the way your lips moved… maybe German
As your words reached my ears, I think Italian I heard
Ti adoro
Foot tapping, keeping a steady beat
As the pendulum swings
Fingers keeping a steady rhythm meet
Keys as I watch your hands sing
Ti adoro
Fingers making love to the ivories
The notes climax at the crescendo
Like secrets written in pages of a diary
The notes speak a language I don’t know
Voglio te
The language of the melodies
Beautiful notes stain your fingertips
Seconds after you pause, the note still rings
Just as a kiss lingers on lips
Voglio te
My lipstick, a vivid, bright red
My signature upon your cheek
I wonder what those notes said
That made my knees go weak
Voglio te
Your fingers work back and forth
Tempo jolting from fast to slow absent warning
Your musical compass at a constant north
Owning the song you’re performing
Mi piaci
My heart can’t seem to remain still
As I watch your fingers dance
Lips parted, breath steady until
I find myself falling into our romance
Mi piaci
Heartbeat speeds up to match the tempo
Banging against my fragile ribcage to the beat
Begging to break out to enjoy the show
I silence her, as it is not her time to speak
Mi piaci
You halt suddenly and turn to the one you adore
Your eyes search mine like a map to a treasure
A straight path from my heart to yours
Faces just inches apart, measured
Ti amo
My heart glitches as the rapid beat tries to slow
Breath hitches as your song ends on cue
Hand switches as the shaking fails to go
Sentences without finishes, as I whisper, I love you
Journey
Miquéla Thornton
I wish I could take a journey through your mind
I wish I could explore your dreams as mine
I wish I could drink your thoughts like wine
I wish I could fall and escape time
Looking at you
Thinking of you
Knowing you
Adoring you
I wish I could make dollars of your dimes
I wish I could make happiness from your cries
I wish I could make all of your bad thoughts kind
I wish I could make our stars align
I wish I could make all of your fears resign
I wish there was a cure I could find
I wish I could take a journey through your mind