Ode to a Stranger

The audience erupts. I stand up. Chin high but no too high. Confident but modest. Humble without malice. I walk onto the stage.

Audience still filling the room with steam, I immediately sweat through my Versace suit. Knees quiver, I quake in my boots. I knew I should’ve warn the loafers.

When I make it to the mic, the room goes silent, steam clears like a drop of a pin. Before I can open my mouth, I flat line.
Dripping sweat profusely leaving water everywhere but the one place I need it most— my throat.

Sweaty and cotton mouthed, I stumble through half-scripted words. You are the reason for my weakness and the reason for my strength.

Trembling because I want to thank you for being my muse, my inspiration, my heart and soul. Putting language to emotions that words can never reach. No justice, no peace. I speak my best but I know it’s a losing feat.

“Words can’t describe what you mean to me because…”
I don’t know you.

Where did you grow up?
What’s your middle name?
Do you do what you wanna?
Or do you check with your mama?

Heartfelt daydreams taste sweet
When the fluff looks neat
Like little puffs of cotton candy.
Meeting you created you.
Not knowing you inflated you.
And now—

What the hell is all this drama I’ve stirred up in my head.
I just met you, barely met you, and I’m writing speeches about you in my head.

Thanking you for things you’ve never done or said but hoping deep down you’ll remember the words I’ve read.
And then we’d wed and you’d pin me to your bedspread. Making sure that I’m fed.

Beautiful. Naive.
Playful reprieve.
I’m intoxicated, I believe.

He’s a pisces best believe.

Falling in love with potential or just vibes
Should really be a crime,
Because it’s all a lie.

Yet it always seems to makes me cry.

I yearn for you, but I don’t show it.
But my body pours for you, just know it.