I Was Spread Out Dailyand Examined For

Big Heart, Wide As A Watermelon, But Wise As Birth, There Is So Much Abundance In The People I Have.

I, In My Brand New Body, Which Was Not A Woman's Yet, Told The Stars My Questions And Thought God Could Really See The Heat And The Painted Light, Elbows, Knees, Dreams, Goodnight.

God Went Out Of Me As If The Sea Dried Up Like Sandpaper, As If The Sun Became A Latrine. God Went Out Of My Fingers. They Became Stone. My Body Became A Side Of Mutton And Despair Roamed The Slaughterhouse.

The Fish Are Naked. The Fish Are Always Awake. They Are The Color Of Old Spoons And Caramels.

I Think I've Been Writing Black Poems All Along, Wearing My White Mask. I'm Always The Victim ... But No Longer!