The Art of Disappearing: Part II
Photos albums with our names
stained on stiff pages
Our faces plastered all over
Slick covers
.
The smell of sweet carrots
And fried grease,
Ice-cream on old stomping grounds
Hood stores turned into co-working spaces
And cute cafes
The mark of gentrification
times changing
Yet our love remains the same
.
Laughter in the middle of
that street in front of Emerald’s Pub
“Have you gotten home alright” texts
“I miss you, when can I see you?”
.
Chanting and singing Gods name moving
Orange flames on white candles
Mahogany tables scented with
the aroma of love, laughter, and remembrance
.
Sinking into the cushions of my blue couch
Tears streaming down flushed cheeks
Green eyes stare back at me
With unconditional presence
.
I bear witness to being cherished
By those worth loving
Worth remembering
Dancing in the stories
Of my old prayers
.
Yes
It’s a gift to be remembered
by those
Who could never forget
Genuinely Jannah 