Dear Nalorm

Dear Nalorm,
Now that we both agree that our 20's are home to ruin
Our bodies have become liberation grounds for redemption
The late night calls
The salt-laced shots
The outrageous 20 cedi taxi fare for a 10 minute journey after 1 a.m
The tipsy laughter
The pitiful ritual of guilt tripping old lovers by disappearing
Whole man parts, drilled into our black holes in search of missing orgasms
We've both been pretending we've seen the light at the end of the god-damned awful tunnel
But we were so eager to claim this adulthood title, we forgot we hadn't grown up
Truth be told, if I could have the cockiness with which naivety knew your body's address and rented space there in your adolscence,
I would snatch it
The freedom that comes with not knowing enough about the cruelty of the world to remember to be ashamed of your body
The short length of time it takes to get ready to step out,
Because you're not pinching, or poking, or burrowing like you're skin is target practice for greenhorns
An old lover once told me he was sitting on an undiscovered gold mine because he was dating a flat chested girl,
Who he hoped would become voluptuous in the future
And my face lit up, because I believed myself an undiscovered gold mine
You can blame everything on youthfulness if you're drunk enough
His illegal touch, food spiced with low self esteem, a body that doesn't know how to forgive itself
Nalorm, my high school dormitory was built on an old cemetery
The way I see it, either we're feeding off the dead or dead things were laid to rest here so we could live each day new
The Old Testament God promised joy in the morning,
But there's no way of telling time in dark tunnels
So any day, is a good day for redemption
Any day, is a good day for redemption