April 25th 2014– Sweetys: TRUE LOVE closing/open mic sleepover
Overnight spoken word event 

T shows up with their tattoo gun, we decide to collaborate.
We land on a Honey Jar. 

They prepare the gun
I engage the audience, we prepare as if in a parlor. 

We’re ready- T Marks, I Spill. They Listen. 
My voice is calm and steady while the needle vibrates through 

Holding me Holding You:

I Distinctly Remember the way you smell.
Your bed is the most comfortable thing I’ve been in 

A natural move, you turned 
I followed 
I invited my arm around you, 
you embraced it. 

I didn’t mind holding you, you held back with the same care. 
Our hands rest in each others fingers 
your thumb caresses mine. 

Holding you, Holding me

I fell asleep knowing comfort. 

Weirdest dream about horses dying, watching them in bed, conversations around doom. 

I woke up to you still asleep 
Put my arm around you, you hold back. 
No one has ever done that before. 
Not in the way you did—I appreciated your honesty & confidence. 

I got up reluctant- already missed my ticket to another city. 

You said “hey, that was nice. cuddling was nice. i really like your energy.”

I’m happy to be on the same page. Excited only to feel as sense of camaraderie after long time. 
Scared still that I already trust you. 

I got on the bus thinking about the way you held my hand

Old man sat down next to me, he said “Happy Easter”

I thought about the way we spoke easily. 

Old man puked. 

I thought of how good you smelled. 

5 Hours later, I feel instantly at home in New York. 
I think of our conversations regarding community. 
I get to Grace. still feeling at home. 
(Despite not making arrangements for a place to stay that night)

I witness one of the most special performances, hyperaware of the privilege and grateful for V+A 

I still thought of your bed. 

V starts performing
I take out a cigarette, about to light 
He goes “Nabeela! do you have a cigarette I could have?”
I turn around and give him mine
“from your lips no less!”
V, you have no idea. 
What does it mean to be performing, then participating in someone else’s gesture at the same time? 
He later told me that was one of 4 times he ever craved a cigarette. 

It’s nearing 1—I decide to take the bus back in an hour. 
I get to the stop. It’s closed. 
A man outside that comfort inn. 
He tells me that 2am is only BOS—>NY
We laugh about it. 
I have 5 hours to kill. 

The receptionist tells me I can hangout here. 
I head to the 24Deli & stand on Canal St for a while, 
thinking of the city holding me. 

the man is still outside the comfort inn 
he wonders why I’m not hanging out at a bar right now 
I head towards the one he suggested only to go a block further 
to find “Clandestino”. 

“Breath me” by sia—I walk into the line “Hold Me”
Whiskey sour reminiscent of last night. 
I start writing this 

Person invites himself to sit next to me—opening with 
“Hemingway once said..drink to write, sober to edit.”
—points for trying 
we surprisingly have things in common. though you’re an odd one
telling me you’re an anti-marxist marxist 

I begin to feel my “yes wave” might get me in trouble tonight 

regardless, you pull J Alfred Prufrock out of your ass 
somehow I trust hanging out with you isn’t a death wish. 

4am-bars closing. 
We pick up a pack of cigarettes from the 24Deli. 
A bottle of wine, 27s & a decision to read poetry on your roof
till I have to leave. 


I start with 

The Fickle One
My eyes went away from me 
Following a dark girl who went by. 

She was made of black motherofpearl 
Made of darkpurple grapes, 
And she lashed my blood 
With her tail of fire. 

After them all I go. 

A pale blonde went by 
Like a golden plant 
Swaying her gifts. 
And my mouth went 
Like a wave 
Discharging on her breast 
Lightningbolts of blood. 

After them all I go. 

But to you, without my moving, 
Without seeing you, distant you, 
Go my blood and my kisses, 
My dark one and my fair one, 
My broad one and my slender one, 
My ugly one, my beauty, 
Made of all the gold 
And of all the silver, 
Made of all the wheat 
And of all the earth, 
Made of all the water 
Of sea waves, 
Made for my arms 
Made for my kisses, 
Made for my soul.

Time to leave and in contemporary fashion you ask me if I’m on FB
We have 2 mutual friends.
You know world/inferno. 

I want to run, you immediately want me to stay. 
We make plans to go wine shopping simultaneously in different cities. 
“Neruda would be into it” you said. 

I leave your roof to cross the street and get on the bus. 


T and I finish at the same time.