A Brush With KryptoniteP
I barely know him,
At times I’m not even sure
If I like him,
But I miss him.
I miss the way he looks at me,
The way he calls my name. Read more…
I barely know him,
At times I’m not even sure
If I like him,
But I miss him.
I miss the way he looks at me,
The way he calls my name. Read more…
His text message floored me. “So when are we going to have a baby?” he asked. This was a few weeks ago and I thought to myself, “Is this negro seriously broaching this topic in a text message?” I responded with the customary “Lol” when one has nothing constructive to say (at nothing particularly funny). But my curiosity got the better of me, so I asked him if he was serious about having a child with me. He claimed he’d mentioned this to me a couple of times before and this was the last time he was addressing the matter. Read more…
A professional writer never reveals his secrets. Until now...But dont tell anyone...Okay. ;-)
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I love New York, but my heart has a Caribbean beat. It pulsates to the traditions of my people. Attuned to the rhythms of this City, I stay West Indian to the bone. I reflect. I analyze. I speak my mind. ~ I Keep it Irie ~
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I love New York, but my heart has a Caribbean beat. It pulsates to the traditions of my people. Attuned to the rhythms of this City, I stay West Indian to the bone. I reflect. I analyze. I speak my mind. ~ I Keep it Irie ~