#AmericanWriters #BlackWriters #FemaleWriters
Pretty women wonder where my secre… I’m not cute or built to suit a fa… But when I start to tell them, They think I’m telling lies. I say,
Beloveds, now we know that we know… Without notice, our dear love can… In the instant that Michael is go… Though we are many, each of us is… Only when we confess our confusion…
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,
I’ve got the children to tend The clothes to mend The floor to mop The food to shop Then the chicken to fry
A last love, proper in conclusion, should snip the wings forbidding further flight. But I, now,
There is no warning rattle at the… nor heavy feet to stomp the foyer… Safe in the dark prison, I know t… light slides over the fingered work of a toothless
I note the obvious differences in the human family. Some of us are serious, some thrive on comedy. Some declare their lives are lived
Curtains forcing their will against the wind, children sleep, exchanging dreams with seraphim. The city
Your skin like dawn Mine like musk One paints the beginning of a certain end. The other, the end of a
We, this people, on a small and lo… Traveling through casual space Past aloof stars, across the way o… To a destination where all signs t… It is possible and imperative that…
When you come to me, unbidden, Beckoning me To long-ago rooms, Where memories lie. Offering me, as to a child, an att…
Your smile, delicate rumor of peace. Deafening revolutions nestle in th… cleavage of your breasts
The sun has come. The mist has gone. We see in the distance... our long way home. I was always yours to have.
Lying, thinking Last night How to find my soul a home Where water is not thirsty And bread loaf is not stone
You may write me down in history With your bitter, twisted lies, You may trod me in the very dirt But still, like dust, I’ll rise. Does my sassiness upset you?