The ghost of a body floats over the horizon of the Atlantic ,
ocean so black it look like a oil spill but this ain't no liquid,
we ain't talking about no ink you see we talking about black bodies thrown overboard .
so now we know
the Atlantic sea use to hum black where the bottom reaches
but now the sea seems to be rising
as if god herself called forth the apocalypse
as if she wanted history to reverse its self
as if she's puking up the black mass of the sea up to the surface for all to gasp at what history has done to her waters.
As if Mother Nature was opening up her insides and giving the people something to look at
To look at how they lynched us out to dry then chained us up for sale
Oiled us up to look appealing to the white man and his nooses with his chains and whips he carried around freely
To look at what they hate
Like our hair
The hair that feels like wool ,
hair always so thick it look like what great grandma use to pick
the difference is this generation use combs while hers used their hands to separate the thorns like racism
while we separate our roots and heritage
Straighten the nature of our hair to waves like the sea they buried the slaves that showed resistance in
like the nap at the bottom of my nape
the hair that grows a vengeful curl
like the sea
during a storm.
YOU ARE READING
A black girls tongue
PoetryPlease , Don't reuse my stuff without permission!!! Now that we got that out of the way this is a book written in mind of a black girls perspective .either it's poetry or a short story it's all pieces I have written my self 🤎.
