in the beginning, there is nothing: then - with all the (black girl) magic harboured in all of their holy -
god says; let there be light
and a harsh summer heat blesses the african continent, it coats the girls in a melanin so thick, boys (black and white alike) dare not go near it for fear of being swallowed whole. in other words, this is god's separation of the two; of light and of darkness.
god says; let there be a canopy between bodies of water
and so, a most poetic shade of blue casts over the world, the sky and sea mirror reflections of the other; a place people go to die and are reborn
god says; let there be land
and so every black mother becomes a motherland. the map of their body never studied with enough care but rather violated and exploited if a boy demands it so.
god says, let there be seed bearing plants and fruitful trees,
and so every black woman becomes a tree as well; a full head of natural curls growing from her roots
god says; let there be stars, and the moon and the time space continuum
and so the inverse of space becomes a black woman: within her an even darker universe, a cycle of seasons; the most important, comes at least once a month, when her body soaks in blood, she, a country sullied by boiled crimson and unbirthed children
god says; let be life to inhabit all the world's blue
and so there are birds and fish the meals of heaven and earth to feed all the countries and its children,
god says; let there be animals and livestock
and black women everywhere erupts in thanks, overwhelmed by the abundance god has blessed them with says grace before every meal tells her children to thank god when they thank her for the food she has made
god says; let there be man
and so every black woman unmakes herself, into a fraction of what she once was; becoming he, woman becomes man,
it is then, god re-makes woman for man; her purpose reduced to a secondary character in his coming-of-age and black woman allows this, despite the lifetime she has spent devoted to god, after all, she will do anything, even make herself an incomplete person
for Him
- for my grandmother. who fear god more than they love their children. i hope in the end it's worth it.
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the failings of a surgically healed heart | a collection
Poetry「 WATTYS 2019 WINNER 」 the failings of a surgically healed heart, is a series of autobiographical poems arranged into six thematic parts to form a collection which examines the idea of the collective and how that informs individual. i. family an exp...
