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


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



my hands hold

the frangrant mixture

of diaspora undone

in their pores

i pray


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