Come Back To The World (Part 2)

I want somebody to walk up behind me

And kiss me on my neck and breathe on my neck

I want somebody to walk up behind me

And kiss me on my neck and breathe on my neck

If you want to feel me

Better be divine

Bring me water, water for my mind

Give me nothin

Breathe love in my air

Don't abuse me

Cause these herbs are rare

(Erykah Badu - Kiss Me On My Neck [Hesi], Mama’s Gun)

Darkness. Then came The Light.

I felt his body upon mine. His hands roamed freely and affectionately as we succumbed to the intoxication of lust.

Darkness. Then came The Light.

I awoke the next morning, my head throbbing intensely as I slowly realized my surroundings. I stumbled upstairs and found the party guests stirring. I emerged on the deck and joined the others for breakfast and a few mimosas. As I downed my drink, he asked me if I was interested in checking out a poetry slam that night.

"That's wassup!" I replied.

I drove home in silence, allowing the radio to summarize my feelings and crawled into bed to recover from my heathenly hangover and drifted off, smiling slightly in disbelief at the wild night I had.

That night, I picked him up (it turns out he only lived in the next city over, merely two blocks from the beach!) around seven o’clock.

"What in the world are you doing? You don't even know this guy!" I thought, as I pulled up to his house. "It was just a crazy stupid party where you acted a damn fool! Forget him and get back to reality!"

But something was urging me, compelling me, driving and guiding me to ring that bell. He let me up. His roommates were away.

"Nice place!"

"Thanks ... sorry, I'm running late. I'm pretty slow getting ready. I didn't think you'd get here so quickly. Most everyone has trouble finding my place!"

"I always find what I really want!"

I gazed at the tattoos on his back while he dressed. A mere 12 hours earlier, I had explored his slim body but now I was able to really check the bubble him out. His room was small but definitely well furnished. He threw on a tight tee and some skinny jeans and we were ready to bounce.

"Hmm, at least he's got style in the bedroom and on the street."

After a stop at Male #3's house, we finally arrived at the Lizard Lounge in Cambridge. Unfortunately, he was too late to sign up for the slam so we ordered drinks and kicked back and watched the poets. Hold up. Rewind. Brotha paid for my cover charge and a round of drinks.

"Now that's wassup!"

We sat in the dimly lit lounge, candle sconces casting a soft glow on the bohemian scene. The poets rapped, came hard with the knowledge and before long, we were cheering and yelling out in support of our favorites. I had never been to a slam before so I was thoroughly impressed! Later that evening, the featured poet emerged with a backup four piece band as my cousin and the Late Lesbo Crew (LLC) finally rolled through. We crowded around the table, reminiscing about the party and as the poet journeyed through her mind, I journeyed through his soul.

The brotha talked about his love of poetry, his Caribbean ancestry, his graduate studies, his frat, his achievements (he ran the Boston Marathon this year! I'm super jealous!), our past loves, our future plans and as the music played, so did my hand on his leg.

The LLC decided they weren't feeling the poet so we ventured outside, hopped in our cars and the brotha and I followed them to Kelly's on the beach. As we flew through the streets of Somerville, Cambridge and Revere, he recited his poetry, his art. No one had ever done that before and I glimpsed the immense depth of his passion for his craft.

After Kelly's, we ditched the LLC and returned to his place. I yielded to temptation. We slid into his room and instantly I was at ease. I borrowed his lounge pants and shirt and a du-rag and before long we were lying in bed watching horror movies and making out.

Darkness. Then came The Light.

The next morning, we lay in bed, trying to get to know each other better. He recited more of his poetry with Lauryn Hill's The Sweetest Thing playing in the background on his laptop. We talked about our ex's and he admitted his reluctance to enter a relationship but admitted he was feeling me in a myriad of ways.

Parting really is sweet sorrow but I returned later that afternoon and left a bouquet of multi-colored Anastasia chrysanthemums and a card to thank him for the wonderful evening.

Darkness. Then came The Light.

I'm truly feeling this brotha and after the immature guys I've dated the past few months, he is definitely a breath of fresh air. While there are a few things I've omitted from the story, I tried my best to capture his essence and spirit. He's spontaneous, outgoing, educated and has a purity about his soul that words fail to capture. I'm not sprung but I'm getting close to it. School is my anchor but as I discover more about this brotha, I'm glad I attended that party.

"Fifty years from now, when you're looking back at your life, don't you want to be able to say you had the guts to get in the car?" - Sam Witwicky (Transformers)

I confess that most of the men I've dated I originally met online so connecting and socializing with someone while at a party was the confidence booster I needed. He's already planned several dates (we're headed back to the slam championship contest in a few weeks) and he's got something planned for my b-day this weekend.

In closing, one of the poets at the contest stressed "live in the now." I'm not going to become Joan Clayton and obsess over whether this is the "one" or not. I'm not going to worry about what my family or friends think, but live for me and enjoy this moment, wherever it may take me. There is an attraction and I want to explore it further. I can't dwell on tomorrow or fret over my past decisions. Right now, all I want to do is exist in the now time signature.

Darkness. Then came The Light.

Gentleman, I formally present ... The Voice