you see the clouds
as cream. ebullient mounds
of baby’s breath but

I
only see the crows cutting through.

-AV 

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requiem for a black lady poet

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Here
I am strained and strange
A body deranged housed 
In a cage they dare call
‘freedom’

I sing them my song
My onliest tune to
A beat they deem fit to
Tap their toe to

But none of them knew
I had to be watched for
Behind my back
Are hands picking locks.