Say Our Names

Black woman.
hypnotized by the tranquillity
of sun’s rising.
grounded by bare feet
on blades of grass.

Black woman.
pinched with the promise
of liberation.
of progression.
of protection.

Black woman.
expected to gather up generations
in her hands
and place a nation’s trauma
on her back.
Carrying the weight of worlds delicately,
she smiles through suffrage—
& addresses her pain with prayer.

Black woman.
Deemed too bold—
Too loud—
not l o u d enough—
Too innovative;
constantly making magic from dust.
Too assertive.
Too aware of her worth.
Too invested in her growth.
Way. too. educated;
yet, she must cultivate the patience to
teach and train and organize and televise revolutions.

Black woman.
whose sacred womb
has crafted trillions of beating hearts,
has breathed life into the lungs of our ancestors.
Black woman.
whose flesh serves as a gateway
between dimensions.

Black women.
We birth the entire world
without making a sound.
We are left open—gashed & sliced;
And somehow we are still required
to clean up the blood.