love poems: gold dust

my body is Africa
men want to discover their roots
through my waters
so they tell me,
‘girl, i’ll make you weep for me.’
‘girl, i’ll make you wet for me.’

they want to colonize my body
but my flesh is my own
my soul belongs to me

my mouth is full of diamonds
use your hands to dig into my earth
your hands were meant to dig into my earth
you will fight to say you belong to me
wear me on fingers and necks and teeth
cannot lick lips without tasting me
i make these niggas remember they’re kings
(i make these boys remember they’re kings)

i burn incense at night when i pray
dance myself clean
breasts and thighs tremble like thunder
that calls out to me in lucid dreams

my hair grows wild and free
like the heart of me
my people have seen some crazy shit
Liberia’s refugees
so pardon me and my iniquities
it seems i have inherited the family gene
of women who carry wounds that are heavier than we
so i call myself strong and not breaking
but my God am i breaking
i am crumbling

this is how gold dust is made

my life has been a graveyard
my family tree a weeping willow
black men
fathers and brothers and lovers of me
sit beneath these leaves
take cover from my light
shade themselves from my needs

my hips bend and curve like river stream
they all want to drink from me
my cup runneth over, they are quenched
i bring life
i have given them life

they are birthed of me

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