Eye

poetry

“I am laid bare.” (Frantz Fanon)

I
am
laid
bare.

A black ghost functioning only on painful splinters of existence

gorging on the limbs of my forefathers

ungraciously slitting open hands, palms
exposed to sunlight; viscera floating into the dust of day

Asking

anyone who will listen

if they know me
if they will know me
if they know anything of my story
if they know anyone who tells stories
if they could trace my consciousness to an open door

if they could tell me they love me

for free.

(2014)

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