• Vol. 07
  • Chapter 09
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gold dust woman, you
slick molasses slap, you
oracle of mamma, hoodoo queen
singing spirits to sleep with bells
on your feet, you

candle laughing in the dark,
rootmother, twin of the
black snake, you,
roiling in the boiling south, you,
bite back, conjure change, you
who hold no captive name
paint your tongue haint blue
and pray for rain, stitching up
the mojo hand to caress a kind of peace
into breathing, vetiver,
carve psalms into
the air like gunsmoke,
lemongrass, citronella,
you, lay hands on the red earth,
say, "quick, child, show me where it
bleeds," you,

pluck divine providence
and sew retribution, you heard
God tonight, and woke
with the eye of a needle
in your fist.