If There Was A Love Jones II: An Afrofuture Love Poem

Opening scene:

On a spaceship
in the year 2056
Nina and Darius
engage in a kiss
as the lights
capture this
cosmic rapture.

Beyond time.
Beyond space.
Beyond Earth.

Beyond Chicago,
beyond New York City
we find them
getting busy
in a master suite
way into the future.

Their Black lives
and love matter
in the hereafter,
in the afterfuture,
in the movement
of thighs, hips,
and lips that grip
eyes who waited,
anticipated, hoped,
prayed for their
return.

They return. The
future is treating
them well. Darius’
writing has excelled.

He’s writing Black
future poems about
black robots dating
computers.

Chapter after chapter
of digital lovemaking
manifesting a new
consciousness of
galactic pan-
Africanism
in solar systems
welcoming
Black power.

Nina is shining. She is
designing magazine
content featuring the
future Black leaders
of the universe.

Amanda Gorman
is on the spread
of her magazine,
inside she is
displayed with
verse, after
verse.

They make plans
to meet Sheila,
Eddie, Savon, and
Hollywood for dinner

to dine after decades
of friendship, of falling
out, falling back in,
new beginnings,
new trends in
communication,
in meeting, in
making space
for multiple
voices to
be heard.

The gang is
back together
never having
missed a step.

Tight relations
were kept; grudges
never swept under
the rug. Darius
and Hollywood
dap but not hug.

From the stage
African drums pound.
Pound. Loud African
Sounds. Sounds.

The room feels majestic.
Everything is mystic.
Terrific. The patrons
then realize they
are witnessing
some of the most
gifted Black people
ever.

Darius grabs the mic:

This, this here is for
Nina after so many
years of loving her:

Say baby, I am still
your slave. Your voice
enters my ear drums.
Drumming on my heart!
You and I are deeply connected,
we are electric! The universe
manifested this baby. You
are my electric soul lady,
the guide to my inner-chi,
you do more than balance
me — you are my infinity!
The trinity is Nina, Darius,
and love. Shit, you are
my drug! You are my
saxophone note, my haiku.
Don’t know what they hell
I would do without you!

Fingers snap. There is a
tremendous clap. Darius
leaves the stage. Hollywood
cannot take it anymore and
storms out. Savon sits there
with a huge smile on his
face. Everyone embraces
the moment.

In 2056 the Jones never
dies. Global Black love is
realized. Diversity, equity
and inclusion is not at all
an illusion. Nina and Darius’
love story is the greatest one
ever told.

© Christopher D. Sims
March 27th, 2021