Chicago-Midwest

Hermitage

HermitageDecember 25Because she'll say"Is that what you think!""Is that how you feel"and will never know this truth of her own designIt is what it iswill not speak itwill not questionIt is what it isHide it in plain textwhere all niggers are blindbut it can not stay in me!Because her Black love isravens testing flesh's warmthwaiting her right moment to pluck out eyesrender imagination futilefly away On her lips pitch andtar testaments of having andholding I will be fossils of proof she existsSavoring Middle passages of television obituaries andcrime scene investigations lottery numbers andmelodrama recapitulations' unobtainable desires manufactured andadvertised Universal product code andMSRP reflecting in her eyesBecause I can no longer stand twilight's araywithout hope's voice whispering images of beautyknowing hope will not share my bed in morning's glowKnowing I will wake to her Black love andShe dreams reality and survives to witnessbonds of hard timesIt is what it isI will not rest 'til deathI will chain my soul to millstones of worrybury my spirit in endless fucks of fighting dogsmurder my dreams when they dare announce their presenceburn out my eyes when they chance to gaze upon wondersdrown my ears with foundry wastes when they sin to enjoy sweet songsinhale lye, sewer gas and sulphur to punish my nose for finding pleasure in jasmine's nectarcleave my own hands when they attempt expressing hopetear my tongue from my mouth when it wills itself to speak of beautyDestroy everything that offers joyBecause it offends herI imagine Dante's Hell to be Paradise compared toBlack women's realityPray for my grave to meet me before sunrise andsweat like slaves to greet itThat she may be happyIt is what it isfor now

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