i am at party. standing with boi and the twins. swaying. having a mojito and thinking of bae. they are playing his song you see. sevyn streeter and chris brown are conjuring images of bae in my head, “and it won’t stop, boom-boom, boo-oo-oo-oom/and it won’t stop, (boom-boom, boom-boom) boo-oo-oo-oom/with every single part of me/my love for you is constantly/forever and ever on repeat, on repeat/and it won’t stop, (boom-boom, boom-boom) boo-oo-oo-oom,” and this dude rocks up and wants to talk. 

“i’ve got a black bone do you want some.” he screams in my ear. i feel spittle and warm breath in my ear. i smell soda. he takes a sip of the baby syrup he is getting drunk on. 

“no.” i move. he smiles and moves closer soda breath and all. 

“you like yellow bones then. you wouldn’t find one in town.”

“i already have one.” he laughs then says something i ignore. i turn to boi and the twins, who have been listening. waiting for the hammer to drop.  

“have you seen my man lately.” i ask boi. she smiles. hammer-time. raising my voice so black bone can hear, i drop the hammer. 

“do people know what i left at home?” the girls laugh. chris is dropping the hammer too: “i’m so in love with you, girl/and it won’t stop, (boom-boom, boom-boom) boo-oo-oo-oom.”

F-K 2016.