I want to be paid the highest compliment.
She. Is. Free.
I would be, too.
Free to take all my clothes off
On my balcony
In the dark
Brown full flesh kissing night air
Free to fall in
And out of love
As many times as
My big juicy heart pleases
Free to swallow kiwis and mangoes
And cherries
Whole
Remnants dripping
Down my chin
Pulp lingering on lips
Free to
Laugh with eyes closed
And mouth wide open
Free
To get it wrong
And let it go
Someone said
Black women don’t fall down
Someone said
We’ve got to make the time then.
To fall down
Grow silent
Scream until
Throats ache
Cry without hiding tears
That splash and slide onto the chest
Messy with no smooth edges
Nothing gets laid down.
I say
Only then
Would that freedom
Be
True.
Only then
Would that freedom
Be real.
Only then
Would that freedom
Be me.