About the Writer
Terrell Jamal Terry is the author of Aroma Truce, forthcoming from Black Lawrence Press in 2017. His poems have appeared (or will soon appear) in The Literary Review, Green Mountains Review, West Branch, The Journal, Guernica, Poetry Northwest, Bettering American Poetry 2015, The Volta, and elsewhere. He resides in Pittsburgh, PA.
Give Me Your Hours
We were storms inside.
I was picturing an ash-red winter
& no one could stop me.
I’m talking to you the way I should have before.
But you are not here,
So it doesn’t count.
He was sewing the hill
When I asked if the water was moving.
I could have destroyed myself.
Give hours & energy
& call a life erroneous,
Because people are waiting to use our bodies.
We are not dreamless objects—
We are other worlds.
I was at least a tattered flag leaning out
Of a fibrous nest.
Place water in time.
The sour taste of 1996— exposure made me run.
I’m selfish with my ears
When listening to music & walls of rain.
I’m selfish with my eyes
When watching turquoise lightning
Tied to a beam.
I move with the transparency of error
Look for me
I’m in the beat of the light
I cut my hand on another round of amends
Lulling rain is glue at midnight
Layers of trance confirmation
In water drowning
Caulk splashed on petals
Music makes a shoulder
Scar map, my stare is a bridge
Venomous snake of vanity
A small town stroked by Sunday stars
Panic & peace
Narrow hallway of the past
Early morning creature
Obvious hungers implode
This music is to be played at night.
We trespass & build tents.
You have the idea—
Fruit deflates the dark.
What type of cabin are you wearing?
Your aftershave whispers
From white wool, & sunflowers glow
In the hazel ocean.
I believe in leisure & necessary work,
Community & rebellion.
But who, what & how much will I do
In cafés of almighty affinity
I still fear my disappearance.
The bloody bears crave me—
They cross the bridge to my backyard.
Ask me questions.
I want to get curious about myself.
More colorful pillows & muggy memories:
The dogs bust through glass & gave chase.
I’ve wanted a taste of difficult music.