His Hands

My light skinned skinny little fingers intertwined with his dark long fingers.

Our hands rested on his long dark jeans.  His hand was warm and soft.  Sort of comforting.

We were on the school bus with other high school kids who were rambling on about their day but

I focused on our hands.  The contrast was outstanding and made me worry a little.

I couldn’t help thinking about what people would think about an African American and an Asian dating.

People love to talk and spread unnecessary lies.  My family wasn’t too welcoming of other races but

I was always taught to never judge people so maybe they would be ok with it.

We were friends just the day before but today we were holding hands the way couples do.

I never had a boyfriend before so I wasn’t sure if these butterflies should be in my stomach.

He sat slouching a little in a navy blue polo collared top.  He had his black book bag in his lap. 

He had a low haircut that was shaped up nicely, full lips, deep brown eyes, slightly long eyelashes, and a flat nose.

He had no pimples or facial hair.  I had seen him every single school day but today he stood out. 

He had a mature sex appeal that I couldn’t help but be attracted to.  He voice seemed gentler.  His gaze seemed like a million Angels looking at you awaiting for your demands.

He whispered something in my ear but I couldn’t really focus on anything but him.  I finally had a boyfriend.  For the first time, I was going to feel what love was like.  Or at least get to feel a guy holding me.

He leaned over and asked if I would be his girlfriend.  I looked him in the eyes and gave him a nervous cheesy grin and said yes.

We were at my stop so I let his hand go.  As I got up and started to walk off, I looked at him.  His eyes and soft smile told me not worry.

Everything was going to be ok.

This poem is about: 



This poem is about my, now, fiance and I. My fiance is African American and my parents are from Guyana. He is my first boyfriend. I never thought anyone would like me. I am a simple girl with not much to offer. Reg saw me for something more. He always makes me feel like more. I knew bringing him home owuld be difficult for both of us. But my mother accepted him and his parents accepted me. There are no color boundries in love. It is very, very evident in our relationship to those around us. 

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