There is a thing sewn into the fabric of my skin

Invisible, yet strong in the face of the

Impossible

It’s improbable

That I should exist

I am supposed to be buried

Deep within the loins

Of a woman and a man who

Never made it

Ripped from their context

Bought by filthy lucre

Dragged aboard ships

And then

Sailed into hell

Unlike Paul

Their ship never broke apart on Malta

For the skies to witness that

Miracle is that the miracle would be

Being

And the miracle of being would sprawl out over time

And take on the guise of

Survival

And there is no guide

Survival happens moment by moment

One day at a time Sweet Jesus

Until your tears and your cries reach the Heavens

And even God has had

Enough!

And
It’s been hundreds of years

And we’re still ignoring

That Divine Voice that’s already said

“It is finished!”

But let’s see if we can wrench a few more drops out of this well

I didn’t start it

I can’t stop it.

Oh hello there middle aged white woman of the bursar’s office.

Yes, I know that I owe this obscenely wealthy university a pittance of a balance.

I understand that I’ll be forced to drop out of school for pennies.

Yes, I do take it quite seriously that I’ll never be able to purchase the degree that you told me I’d need to finally be

Free

You see the teacher that immigrated to this country from a nation that my uncles and brothers enlisted to protect doesn’t think that a black girl belongs in her class.

She’s deliberately failing me and I’ll lose the scholarship that’s keeping me afloat.

Oh.

You want to see me cry or you’ll show me no mercy here at the bursar’s office

Middle aged white woman?

I can’t cry in front of you.

You want me to cry in order to prove that I can feel?

To show I’m playing your game?

You want me to prove that I’m not a

Brute beast.

But I can’t cry in front of you.

I was taught to be strong

I have learned to be strong

I had strength beat into me by my parents

They had strength beat into them by their parents

Who learned strength by the end of a whip

Displaced an ocean away from where they started

So I’ll fight back the stinging tears

I’ll hobble out of your kingdom

I’ll limp across the street

I’ll cry in secret

I’ll mourn for the rest of my life

While you go on thinking that I don’t feel

And your proteges visit my blue collar job

And ask what I do “outside of this”

I’ll answer

Nothing

I just survive

And it’s a miracle

That I laugh daily

And I’ve experienced happy tears

I dream ever and always

I had to learn to be disillusioned

You taught me to be skeptical

But I didn’t quite get the hang of it

Yes. Yes I know

I shouldn’t be here

It’s a miracle

I survived

My folks were never taught that having children would cripple their future

So they didn’t die

They multiplied

And they sent their progeny

To the shores of the colonists

In attempts to retrieve some of

What was stolen from them long ago

But the temples to Molech

And the greed that built empires

Could not sustain empires

So here I am in the middle of one that’s falling apart

My mind flashes from images of

Police officers with their knees on

The necks of

My brothers

And now I know what I’m looking for

What my eyes have been straining to see all along

A bruised heel

With an awful dragon

Trampled underfoot

“How long O LORD, Holy and True, until You judge and avenge our blood?”

Unlike Moses

I wasn’t drawn from the water

At the dawn of time

I was formed from the earth

I draw my hue from the Earth

I draw my breath from

The Divine

He said I’m made in His Image

He fashioned His own Image

From the rich

Golden black soil

More and more I understand

That the Dragon rages against me

Because the Dragon rages against

THE GREAT I AM

And He made me in His own Image

From the rich

Golden black soil

I shouldn’t be here

Eden’s doors were shut long ago

But still they try to rape it for its goods

Excavate the gold

The copper

The cobalt

The diamonds

The bauxite

The oil

The rubber

The BLOOD

So my friend wonders

How my Golden Black people can live while

Amy Coopers have their hands on

The triggers and

Amauds and George Floyds

Die in the streets

Under some bastard’s knee

I answer that I shouldn’t be here

It’s a miracle

I should have jumped to my death in the sea

I shouldn’t have survived the scourgings

I should have died long ago

Hung from a tree

But for this thing

Sewn into the fabric of my skin

Invisible

Yet strong in the face of

The impossible

It’s improbable that

I should exist

But I’ll thrive

I’ll laugh

I’ll love

I’ll dream

I’ll build

I’ll

BE

Visit the Exodus and tell me what you see

Watch out

Stand back

It’s time for some things to be

Drowned in the sea

It’s a miracle

I shouldn’t be here

I survive.