Her
I will never be this woman again
So let me stay awhile
I will never wear this skin again
So let my body be dressed in the smoothness
of shea butter against my melanin skin
I want to be still with her
Be gentle with her stems
The thorns trickling along her body are
beauty marks that she fought hard to win
She is a warrior, yet a lover of the serenity
within the night
In these dark times she finds that silence is
her sharpest knife
She severed through her weaknesses in
hopes of a better life
Without forgetting the wounds her
ancestors have sacrificed
But, to find peace we cannot always
maintain peace of mind
Should you clean the blade or shall I?
Dami —
Beautifully Written