Honey & Spice

by Bolu Babalola

Where is the finesse, hun? The clear understanding that you are handling a masterpiece?! You’ve got this far. Appreciate it.

‘Kiki Banjo. I see you’ve taken a break from bashing men on your cute show to come join us today.

Just wanted you to know how it feels to be given a title that don’t suit you.’

Malakai’s pause hung in the midst of Frank Ocean telling us that a tornado flew across his room.

Adolescent risk wasn’t tasty when my whole life felt like it was tipping on the edge.

I’d said no kissing. I couldn’t remember why anymore.

‘Mate, if this is a Rapunzel situation, my braids are tied up with a headscarf.

sistren, brethren, them-thren.’

‘You better not let me go, Kai.’

‘Already made that mistake the other night.’

‘People connect to authenticity.

I wanted to grab his face and tell him that I was chatting shit, that there was no game, just us, but instead I watched him turn around and walk away.

‘Babe! I brought crystals too! Amethyst!’

We were beauty within the mess.

Sometimes beautiful things get messy.

Seeing people for who they are can be scary, that’s like . . . full investment. Responsibility.