• Vol. 07
  • Chapter 09
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I close my eyes gently, lashes interlaced,
so my gaze doesn’t singe you,
and my lips are sealed because if they opened,
the words that spilled forth would condemn you to damnation.
I cover my beautiful kinky hair with a head wrap
for it would blind you – my radiant halo,
the corona to my inner sunlit self.
Under that fabric lies the pain of my people
seared into the sulci and gyri of my brain for all eternity.
You made me “the other”, a mere commodity
stole my people, sold them, enslaved them,
shipped them off to foreign lands, crammed into holds,
expendable cargo, manacled, shackled, and fettered,
and yet they survived, endured, held tight to life and love and faith.
You have not realized yet that I am your earliest ancestor,
your ur-mother, who carried you out of the Great Rift Valley
nestled against my nursing bosom, and sent you forth to people the earth.
You deride my appearance, even as you take from me
with infinite avarice, all that is mine, and then some more.
You only see the dark velvet of my skin, my gorgeous melanin,
and mock the amulets I wear as a shield from your greed.
You have closed your heart to beauty, sold your soul to Mammon.
Hate is wasted on you. I pity you who are unworthy of my contempt.