I see the wisdom of eternities
In ample thighs
Belying their presence as adornments
To the temples of my sisters
Old souls breathe
In the comfort of chocolate thickness
That suffocates Africa's angels
Who dance to the rhythm
Of the universe's womb
Though they cannot feel
Its origins in their veins

Blessed am I to be loved
In the temple of my own skin
My nappy center kisses the sun
In harmony divine
Devoid of the ugly
That does not know this as God

But the sons of oppression
Never gave sisters loaves
To feed the hungry fury in their bellies
Nor did they teach them to fish for spirit

So I pray to the voices
That whisper in my soft curves
For the lionesses of my blood
To hear the songs of the cool reeds

To feel the green blood beat of cataclysm in their breasts
And to know the embrace of freedom in nourishing silences
Where their radiant ebony vessels are reflections of their souls