A Desperate Plea.

MOVEMENT ONE

I called him.

I thought enough time had passed for us to resume conversation like normal people. But the situation being what it was, there was still that space between us. Not like once before when he was on top of me grinding, trying to penetrate my spot with his lust. I pulled back and let him make love to my neck and everywhere else. I went down on him, all the times I can count without thinking twice. Our conversations were intimate, none like I've ever had before. Time will only tell if I ever can get it back. I don't want it. But something is tugging at me, making me stupid to call him. I just need it one more time, for the purposes of closure. If I had it one more time. I'd be okay...I can get it out of my system. Damn I hate niggas sometimes.

MOVEMENT TWO

I haven't been around them enough all at one time to know what it feels like. I haven't seen them together since my Grandfathers funeral in 1997. They haven't played any part in my adult life and to have them all in my living room on Christmas was so weird, I didn't know how to act...I had to go and sit down and think about it. My uncles are a mess individually, I know their stories collectively. It's so funny how they can all band together for a moment and be civil but they backbite like jealous bitches in a High School bathroom. I don't understand, why, people put up with each other just because they are family. As far as I am concerned, Family is a fancy word for people...and people, they are a let down.