The voice I gave you was not my own
because all I knew how to give were your
expectations to close the quiet between us.
Words passing from lips to lips left in our air.

We could talk about GPA’s, college, serving
God, dance class, and twisted realities
not the songs we sang every day for we
left words unspoken in our real voices.

We wanted those secrets. Leftover memories
from moments we had to flee from. Holding
on to small bits of time when we should have
created chances that deserved to exist.

Just as you come into my life again, we will
be different. I’ll hear you say, “Hi,” smiling
in my face, as my thick afro hair hides
the grin you caused, a blush too.

Your open arms hold the little girl inside me,
who knows she can be heard, who knows
the scent of home. You’ll pull back, kiss
a young woman and say, “I’m sorry.”