Streetlight Hopping

By Iyanna Armwood

  1. My mother said cold hands mean a warm heart

so when my hands are cold I hold them to my chest

searching for a feeling like 

a bath at 3am on a winter night. 

Sometimes I want to feel for your hands 

or search past the flesh of your chest 

for your heart. 

Will I find warmth 

or be left with frostbite? 


  1. I think about worthiness a lot.

                               My quality to others. 

                               My significance to myself. 

Does it even exist for me? 


  1. I remember when you told me my boobs look great 

in the frilly shirt I felt silly in. 

It took everything in me not to sound like a fool and say,

“Thanks. Your boobs always look great!” 


  1. I didn’t want you to think that I’m always

staring at the lumps of fat on your chest. 

If anything I stare at your long legs 

and your soft but serious facial expressions that

remind me you’re a badass with a good heart. 


  1. If people were colors based on their personality,

what color would I be? 

I would most likely be colorless and bland 

for I have nothing to make me…me. 

You remind me of autumn, 

you would be reddish-brown 

for your ever-changing progression. 


  1. At one point, I informed the bees that their services 

were no longer needed. 

You are sweeter than any honey

they could ever hope to produce. 

The only reason they should ever be allowed

to continue such a practice

is to enhance the taste of your tea. 


  1. At night, I run from streetlight to streetlight to stay out of the dark. 

I don’t wish to know what lies there.

I’d much rather live in your radiance. 


Mid-June                                                                                                          “J”