A Collaborative Poem by Barry Dawson & Tremaine L. Loadholt, published in Collaborature
BJ Dawson:
They come dripping with honied songs.
You happily lap them up at first;
so cloyingly sticky with promise
the sting of their claws goes unnoticed.
And just like that, there’s nothing again,
Only now, nothing feels less than that.
Got you chasing things you never wanted
just to feel something one more time,
just to get another juicy taste,
just like they wanted all along.
Play at being prey enough times,
angles and patterns soon seem telegraphed.
Funny how when you see them coming
those sweet songs croon on empty calories,
leaving you, me, and this naked truth.
Unsheathed, this mummer’s mimic still has fangs,
so be mindful how you cast them off.
Though a well-dressed no is still a no
and boundaries trigger venomous bite,
angles and distance out-leverage their reach.
Let them bait their lines again and again.
Mimic being moved by their siren song
as saccharine curdles into sour nothings
as you walk away from their invite
to thank them for gorging on your wholeness.
(In Response) Tremaine L. Loadholt:
You love being whole,
love feeling like you have
it all, and every woman you
meet must be craving
your attention.
A welcome yes may not
be the yes you yearn for,
but this doesn’t matter, you’ll
take what you want anyway.
And the sun and moon watch
as you devour hearts that
haven’t bloomed into their
ripe age. they plot on you–one
to brace you when it’s hot, the
other to push you when it’s cool.
You are so intent on breaking
every rule, you don’t realize
protecting you is their job.
The distance to sanity from where
you are is a two-day journey.
Wives and husbands, sisters and
brothers; every connected union
you find along your path–
To read the poem in its entirety, please find it in its published form at Collaborature. Thank you so much, Melissa Lemay, for hosting our work! Thank you, Barry, for continuing to collaborate with me. Our words have danced with each other for years, and I pray they continue to find each other in the future, too.
A Cornered Gurl 
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