I loved not knowing you for those longs legs
of time, of distance in thought
pulled you out of an abstract ocean
for new tastes.
Commodity is a flower of comfort
you thought meant love
transcendence in the highlight of company.
I am the new age, the colonizer of body and ideas.
Translation is loud, thought is a catalyst to movement.
I continue to reproduce, reap from the gardens I find
pull bodies from the oceans we buried them in.
Graves are the honors we dig.
I came to you puzzling words. Translation is loud,
I expected you to find the pieces
of my body.
the passages of suffering are thundering in your eyes
until I become your speaker, your menacing clouds
we prostate together side by side irrespective of Gods
you prostrate to your world for all it knows of pain.
I hold the weight of my head.
I know what my people have done.