Being versus Becoming

Imagery of poets screaming into microphones. Telling the stories of the time they heard the warnings of dangers that lie ahead.

I now remember summertime. One text, one time to show you my horrible communication skills. A new friend gained with the newness of Spring. Months went by. I can’t catch how long on the sundial. Days and shadows got longer, but I still could spend every moment with you. I rise from my coffin and the sunlight doesn’t burn and I wish I knew then what I know now, but I am glad I didn’t. I am glad that I was able to be buried under the weight of a significant other. Signing my name in their skin and not calling it alien. Though we alienated ourself from this world, the cave we lived in together felt like extra terrain crafted from our hands. We sheltered each other understanding the significance of being extra terrestrial beings. The significance of being. The difference between what we want to be and what we were becoming. I only wish that you could come with me.

I became another poet screaming into the microphone about ripping a lover from my chest and it tears me apart knowing Adam and Eve couldn’t be if Eve remained a rib.




“Muse” by Asya Fields aka ‘Rumination’

My heart seems to constantly be drawn to your wave.

I’ve crashed against the shore many times and I no longer feel safe

-I wanna feel safe.

I wanna know that what I plant will be rooted in place.


Your water became too much.


We know water can get heavy.

Though I carried not a much lighter load when you met me.

Your job was to protect me.


Am I a fool for thinking I need to be protected?

We aren’t objects and I won’t objectify

-I say your brokenness made me feel rejected


What is love?


I still can’t define it for us.

I still can’t find it for us.

I still can’t build it for us.


Behind us is a story we’d call love if we told it.

We realized that we carry cases full of shit.

We realized we want someone to help us hold it.


If you up root your weeds to see your garden more clearly,

If you ask if I have the strength to carry,

If we tend to our grass.


Your waves can crash into my shore.

Your waves can replenish my soul.


Wake up

The sun peeks into the room barely

The scent of dried pickles circles the atmosphere

Why she takes the smell away

Suddenly, I smell roses                no lilac

For a second I forget that I have to get up

The clock says 8 am, but my body aches like

Its 4 am and I groggy like a baby whose sleep

Was just disrupted, but I can’t cry

That’s not acceptable in our society

I have to get up

I have to continue living day by day

I have to not care whether or not I want to

Or don’t want to

I have to fake it


With the leap of faith it usually takes someone to plummet to their death

I get out of bed why

I can feel the throbbing below my waste I’ve never gotten used to it

The draw strap on Hanes tucks it away


My aching body scurries to the bathroom sink

Mirroring nothing near to a reflection

Eye are mirrors

Mirrors are eye they see everything

My daily routine




Annually where is my paycheck

I should have one of those jobs

It reads

It reads, $11.75/ per hour never ending

I drop toothpaste on my chest

She’s still sound asleep in bed lucky

I recall choosing this life long ago in undergrad now grad

Now my pants don’t fit anymore my gut pokes out of all of dress shirts

That one button at the apex can never be closed

She turns in the bed and mumbles in her sleep

What is she saying?

I have no idea but I’m sure her breath smells like caramelized unions

She the top of my heart

And I have it

The reason I continue to go where I hate

It’s her

I become jealous of her freedom

She wants picnics at brunch and long weekends

The sun naturally kisses her skin and she glows

She’s the time I looked into the bulb of a lamp

Trying to figure it out never did

She’s my cold coffee

I wake up and I sit at that desk

I give tours

I make friends

I do whatever

I have to do for her, us

I wake up

The End of a Drought on the 5th of December 

How can I explain my certainty that the rain falls for you.

That the tears you cry not only free the rivers inside of you

but, bring life.

How can I explain that a God so big can command gentle waters

Forcing everyone to pause to meet you where you are.

The same puddles that are absolutely annoying come from the need to replenish after a drought.

The same God that left you barren

Gives life one tear at a time.

When Earth Met Water

I love your waves

Your salty waters call for dehydration yet I am refreshed when you call to my shore.

You fill the holes of my soul and speak to the roots of my soul.

We become one.

The brown muddle and cold result of earth and water.

Your waves jump to my shore over and over.

You compare me to the moon though I can’t bash your metaphors, they extend to my stubborn ground.

Reaching to your moon, but I feel closer than that.

That heartbeat.

The push and pull I can feel when you retreat.

Still your waters crash against my crystallized shore.

You leave prints and droplets of yourself as your engulfing spirit heads back to the ocean.

Together we create beautiful seashells.

The collectors delight; pearls and rare commodities.

We combine our weight.

Because we know heaviness.

And though you are less easily constrained and I know my earth can be too stubborn to take form. We see the outside of our comfort zone in comfort of each other’s arms.

We give balance to the looters hands.

Your waves continue to embrace the creation of something against the norm.

Humanities that spring from me have you rushing through their veins.

I call it nation building.

I call it sustaining.

I call it healing.

The earthquake to the hurricane.

We no longer need permission to exist because we have already been created.

I’ll watch as you majestically give the roots planted in me the power too bloom.

We will be blooming.

We will be building.

We will embrace faith in you and I .

We will be.

Sepia (see-pee-uh)

Sepia (see-pee-uh)

His body absorbed the sun.

Millions of pores stretched across skin filling with light

– milk chocolate melting in 90 degree weather.

Pores strategically placed.

Rays scattered through his muscles reflecting off anything and anyone who tried to lay eyes on him.

Seeing him in all his glory- I bowed.

Some were blinded by his magnitude.

-God-like divinity.

Tremble and praise, or steady and condemn.


I only feared the journey of the unknown.

Touching the hands that may allow us to become clay for one another.

Touching the hands that may hold so much weight that it cannot do either.

I feared only knowing the reality is that he has chosen neither.


I allowed him to tread my name in dirty waters.

I allowed him to mock our connection as if it wasn’t built upon faith.

I allowed him to take time and realize the benefit of humility.


Chains being the only silver we share together.  

We are no stranger to hard work.

With 29 plus years- or 60 plus years or 100 plus years.

Decades spent together, decades pulling us apart.

Lies placed in between us until we were planets apart.


Whipping the woman out of you.

How many lashes for being soft.

How many lashes for caring.

How many lashes for crying.


All the while you grew- humble and waiting.

Mirroring your deepest affections.

Mirroring the light you absorb

-woman dipped in honey.


They couldn’t handle my light

– the combination of you and I

A nightmare

– in day time.

You saw magnificence and strength and love become flesh of your flesh.

You saw me as your equal.

A part of you that you longed for

– your rib.


Two beings absorbing all positivity.

Absorbing all light.

Destined to show their destiny.

Grace and mercy in their eyes.

The voice that said after all the struggle,

After all the lies,

After all the confusion

– the constant cry of separation-

We have met in the middle.


We chose love every time- deep, honest, rich, black