Montréal Poetry Magazine: Poetry by Dess Spence
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Published October 1, 2016

Worth (or Love)

The kisses.
The touches.
We kissn,
And yeah… we touchn.
I eased into the rhythm
infatuated with him.
He told me that he wants me
nobody but me.
Ask me if I liked it and I knew
I can’t deny it.
His steady rock
his steady flow
deep grip
let me know.
This brother wasn’t bout the show.
he wanted me bad.
He was good to go.
Good… to… go…
I’ve never done this before.
Ask if I want it, not sure.
what I’m sayin or tryna say
is that I’ve been brought up in a way
that my V is supposed to mean something
you don’t just dash it away
a brother who
licks his lips and spits some game.
Says something sweet but not your name.
And it’s crazy
cuz all you call me is baby
who the hell’s baby
is that what ma named me…
And I’m thinking that maybe…
there should be something deeper than the
physical, visual
primitive, definitive
of a well known
So he's telling me that he wants me right
and I’m wondering who he's talking to
cuz this, this is just not me
he hasn't even met me.
but the brotha who wants to fuck her is not to blame.
Sure he wants to fuck her.
Freaking under covers.
But she be acting stupid,
just so she can prove that
she’s got some value got some worth spreads the knees
with aims to please.
But she’s looking for love through someone else,
not realizing love
LOVE starts with
loving yourself.

Good Days

Good days good days.
Give me them good days.
I’m talking about them good days
when life tastes a little sweeter.
Not them hard days
when life is gunna
eatchya ,
spit you out and tommorrow repeat the
same thang.
Cuz it aint no thang
but a mental game
yet my brain’s been drained.
It can’t deal wth
the bullshit
it put up with
got stuck with.
The non sense.
Pop pills
to kill pain
the headache of our minds
repeat the same statement…
Good days…
You hold me like your girl
like your girl…
but we're still just friends.
Like your girl
but it really depends.
Like them nights after ball
and you wanna come over.
Say you want to chill,
then you break me over
and over.
Break me every time
because I let you get closer...
than comfort...
Does that mean I love you
I don’t know.
But you kissed me on my back and the moment seemed to slow.
Etch your lips on my skin,
let it sting till you go.
It’s not until the morning
that the effects show.
Have you ever cried
and not meant to,
just a moment that gets you.
The moment of realization
that today is not going to be
a good day…

Mad Black Woman

so why does it hurt so bad?
why am i crying?
so sad?
think of the things i have
miss the things i had
feeling like the things i want
i cant



hold it


before it leaves.
take those moments of joy
cause pain comes again.


and it can’t be changed

without downs
there are no ups.
without frowns
no rebounds.

but damn

i’m still mad



i’m tryna get that money
and it’s funny
this thing
comin from me.
is my hunny
getting fucked
but never coming.
having hope
but getting nothing
call me frontn
call me sumtn
i don’t know if god is judgn

i live my life knowing my odds
knowing my skin colour
is a gift from god but also
that it affects my odds?
angry black woman
ain’t that odd?
bitchy woman?
aint that odd
stupid student?
aint that odd
struggling artist?
this education ain’t no guarantee

why are you so angry
why you so angry
running but never moving
why you so angry
talking but never changing
why you so angry
and seems like life just keeps movin quicker
you sure you’re even in the picture…
why you so…
why am…
i… so…
damn angry.


kiss is jus a kiss
i know this
but ima do like always and
over analyze it
movement of mouth to mouth
breathe in life
let me inhale and feed off
the essence of late nights and early mornings
rolling in and out of sheets
throw them on throw them off
pillows there then gone
i want u to show me
cycles of climax then rest
readjust the bra u just took off tie back the hair just undone
our actions, vain
fully aware, again
again, again
taste me
erase the kisses u placed
before u made me
hiss through the gaps of my teeth
addictive pain
lets do it again
1pm 2pm again
3pm 4pm
let’s sleep and pretend each sleep induced breath
isn’t longing for the blend
of smell and emotions
baby lets do it again
your sound n my sound
harmonious musical trend
gulp of the throat
sigh of our thighs
after going for hours
it not your lips nor mine its ours
hours upon hours
baby i love our again
the absence of your touch defeats me
so hold me as if you'll never leave me
imprint the palms of your hands
on the nape of my neck
kiss me and say to me
you are my godDess

Dess Spence: This little Ms. loves to spit a little something to keep the
crowd warm and toasty. Coming from the simple West side of Canada, the
depth of her words are anything but simple. Let yourself indulge with her in
stories and fantasy. Sit and sip the honey filled sweetness of her lip, mmm
that sugar coated kiss...

Poetry by Dess Spence

Worth (or Love)
Good Days
Mad Black Woman
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