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Voices Whispering in My Ear
By Rudolph Lewis
I heaven-sent
spent much too little time in her bed, she who first
heard my cry, cradled
me, kissed away my wild tears. At seventeen
she cushioned me to
milk dripping, bursting black nipples. Nothing
was wrong her giving
herself to me, for I come apart. Her breast
hummed "Please Accept
My Love” hoping to soothe a blues child,
urging me to feel I
must fight to keep it together, sweating, dying,
beyond the rules.
Picket lines & trigger happy policing punish me
with gnarls, empty
pockets. I holler the way I must live my life &
moan to a distant
lover. Nights are long. Spirit fingers treasure. I
can’t hold back the
music off-the-wall, dancing sanctified—moving
grooving me. But
there’s always he who’s ready to take again, she
I built my whole life
around, a window of promises. Who's he to
judge a one-track
mind? Who but me—a fantasy touch can do
more than just enough?
My sweet Jesus, what’s going on? Ain’t
you got time for nobody else? A gun explodes like a
nightmare.
Juneteenth 2004 |