#AmericanWriters #BlackWriters #FemaleWriters
Lying, thinking Last night How to find my soul a home Where water is not thirsty And bread loaf is not stone
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
When love is a shimmering curtain Before a door of chance That leads to a world in question Wherein the macabrous dance Of bones that rattle in silence
Your hands easy weight, teasing the bees hived in my hair, your smile at th… slope of my cheek. On the occasion, you press
One innocent spring your voice meant to me less than tires turning on a distant street. Your name, perhaps spoken,
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…
She came home running back to the mothering blackness deep in the smothering blackness white tears icicle gold plains of… She came home running
Give me your hand Make room for me to lead and follow you beyond this rage of poetry.
Your skin like dawn Mine like musk One paints the beginning of a certain end. The other, the end of a
When I think about myself, I almost laugh myself to death, My life has been one great big jok… A dance that’s walked A song that’s spoke,
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…
A last love, proper in conclusion, should snip the wings forbidding further flight. But I, now,
We, unaccustomed to courage exiles from delight live coiled in shells of lonelines… until love leaves its high holy te… and comes into our sight
A Rock, A River, A Tree Hosts to species long since depart… Marked the mastodon, The dinosaur, who left dried token… Of their sojourn here
Her arms semaphore fat triangles, Pudgy hands bunched on layered hip… Where bones idle under years of fa… And lima beans. Her jowls shiver in accusation
