by kiki nicole
kiki nicole is a Black, Queer, and Non-binary multimedia artist and poet. They’ve received invitations to fellowships such as Pink Door Writing Retreat, The Watering Hole, and Winter Tangerine. kiki hopes to lend a voice for the void in which Black femmes not only exist in plain view, but thrive. Their debut chapbook, Autobiography of the boi Venus, is forthcoming. Find them at kikinicole.com.
"(i am thinking about how she will go)" was shortlisted for the 2020 Peach Gold in Poetry with guest judge Alok.
"WORMTONGUE" was longlisted for the 2020 Peach Gold in Poetry with guest judge Alok.
(i am thinking about how she will go)
this, an ode to yr hands + what her need them to do / to me. tonite, i make room for this rancid, tho / queered union this white devil waltz / bowl my body + o, how it needs.
to me, she made good yr body. Tonite / may leave my lips burdened but she needed this / (o) my body bowl spooned her blood batter / whipped. the golden of her
this peach emoji pussy + u, a
she think she need. she leave yr lips anointed w/ grease some chicken + waffle type sexy / yr tongue has no room for. to you, she’m crisco exotic tonite, queer
tomorrow, rancid / monkey emoji pubic. the dirt of her body whipped raw + u knead / ode to the body that feeds + the hungry hand + the gaping mouth belonging to whom?
tbh, she bowl body to be filled idc w/ what the whole point of hunger is to fix / this
empty need she had for anyone’s hands. this was an ode frantic + u answered. good.
with u in the mouth / she forget.
somewhere between an unbalanced pH level
& a constant curve
i bleach the crotch of my briefs & slither into my winter-skin
sometimes i be talking to someone & then i just stop
i think i am the guy TLC warned you about otherwise known as a
busta or i don’t truly know
what i am just a long plump tongue of a body now plaque pale i suppose no one sees me anymore until it rains & then too
much of me i split into millions
damp little ghosts squeezing our
breathing caskets long & over one
another’s sticky trails straining for breath or whatever comes after being alone i, Echo again,
gnawing at muggy walls for a voice
other than my own
i taste the scent of Messy Bitch
through my skin muscles i am
with it how fertile my ugly