he feels the magic of his skin (he wants to let her in).
on the corner his selling fruit to bring her to him.
he knows it can’t be wrong, this birth,
this coronation (he wants to let her in).
the fruits rot, coins drop
in his hands he knows
she’s coming back to him.
his black skin was never taught
to believe in fairies that could become anything.
now, he knows how fake eyelashes flutter
over empty caves where he once lived.
the schoolgirls don’t know how (he wants to let her in)
he wears their white socks
right up to his knees.
they think his stares are wet with
dark promises of damp beds.
at night she comes to him
out of the blur, the mute twilight (he wants to let her in).
the tattered dress slips up his waist; a black wig to shape his face,
his synthetic and true, he’s drawing her to him.
Jarred Thompson is an English Graduate from Alabama State University. He has been published in The Rainy Day Literary Journal, The Kalahari Review, Poetry Portion and placed second in the Fitzgerald Museum Short Story Contest, a national contest for college students in the US. He currently resides in Johannesburg South Africa where he is at work on his Honours dissertation at the University of Johannesburg.