You will forget this

In the sigh of a better morning.

You will forget that I held you close to me

Clinging to your sweet innocence, the best of me

Present in you, imagining that we could be this way


That we could always be.

Later–perhaps as she does–

You will hate me. Hate the sternness

of my character:

My reluctant smile, my unease,

my penchant for mistakes.

Perhaps, like her, you will hate

my darkness most of all.

But for now I have you in my grasp.

I can hold you to me and your eyes

have not yet discerned

My million imperfections.

You do not know that we grow old

and bitter

and fade.

You still believe that we will be this way


That we will always be.

Stolen to the land of Milk and Honey

at night they dragged me from my bed,
upon my back they trod.
to hell the path before me led,
though theirs led straight to God.


It is written: He granted them
dominion over me;
Wicked cruelty learnt from him,
So wicked they also be.

Raped. Shackled. Murdered. Branded. Then,
their stolen land would yield.
My blackness cursed, enslaved within—
by blood I grew her field.

her belly swelled with rotting meat—
wounded, she would not look:
necrotic entrails, her deceit,
and all the lives she took.

rotted decay deformed her skin
i waited for her to die.
drown in the refuse of her sin,
and choke upon her lie.

be weary of her jagged parts—
one blow would slice you through,
do not despair as she departs—
she would not cry for you.


unspoken sins’ massive dearth
bled her to her core.
Nation of Lies cast back to earth,
and then she was no more.