Poetry

ancestor. (a poem)

the magnificence
of you
is manifested in
momma’s hands
as she braids rows of corn
into my head

they know necessity, know
unity, know
pain

i writhe, and
resent the screw-tight
plaits

she says, “be still” she says,
“sit back”

i melt into the mauvish carpet and cringe
“how can such a hard head be
so tender?”

i don’t know, either

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