#Americans #Blacks #Women
Your smile, delicate rumor of peace. Deafening revolutions nestle in th… cleavage of your breasts
Beloved, In what other lives or lands Have I known your lips Your Hands Your Laughter brave
I’ve got the children to tend The clothes to mend The floor to mop The food to shop Then the chicken to fry
When I was young, I used to Watch behind the curtains As men walked up and down the stre… Young men sharp as mustard. See them. Men are always
He bad O he bad He make a honky poot. Make it honky’s blue eyes squint
The night has been long, The wound has been deep, The pit has been dark, And the walls have been steep. Under a dead blue sky on a distant…
A last love, proper in conclusion, should snip the wings forbidding further flight. But I, now,
I keep on drying again. Veins collapse, opening like the Small fists of sleeping Children. Memory of old tombs,
The sun has come. The mist has gone. We see in the distance... our long way home. I was always yours to have.
Some clichty folks don’t know the facts, posin’ and preenin’ and puttin’ on acts, stretchin’ their backs.
Tears The crystal rags Viscous tatters Of a worn-through soul Moans
I keep on dying again. Veins collapse, opening like the Small fists of sleeping Children. Memory of old tombs,
You drink a bitter draught. I sip the tears your eyes fight to… A cup of lees, of henbane steeped… Your breast is hot, Your anger black and cold,
My man is Black Golden Amber Cha… Warm mouths of Brandy Fine Cautious sunlight on a patterned r… Coughing laughter, rocked on a whi… Graceful turns on woolen stilts S…
We die, Welcoming Bluebeards to our darke… Stranglers to our outstretched nec… Stranglers, who neither care nor care to know that