Untitled

CATEGORY

life

Once my my skin matched up with the sky...

Ebony, fighting streaks of red sunlight at the speed of dawn found me

at Angkor Wat, interrogating statues who smile a Mona Lisa smile.

They knew me well, Whispering, this god made of clay told me I

witnessed the birth of Akhenaten and wept at the death of the sun.

Vowing to wait for the son of man like a pregnant bride holding sins in

her belly. Making slaves of those who skin bore evidence of the first

eclipse. Children of the first sunrise, children of the first night..

Lost, I found myself on a Trans Atlantic conveyor belt

Chained to the lies that lie beside me...

My skin matched up to whip marks. leaving unmarked graves...

Slaves sing at their own funerals...

I remember that song......