Thursday, February 3, 2011

to an African girl with an afro

 your hair is holy

is hallowed

is the name i lost

when i left this continent

locked like you

might do to your 'do

 

in rain

your curls create diamonds

shining in between the tips of every follicle

 

you are who i want

my daughter to be

 

you are a reminder

of the man i haven't been

every time i touch your scalp

you don't let me run

through

you know that's a cop out

know that's not how i was raised

know that love is an effort

 

let me braid my fingers

into your folds

massage a secret message into

your roots

with cocoa and shea

 

afterwards

my hands hold

the frangrant mixture

of diaspora undone

in their pores

i pray

inhale 

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