The Truth
written by: Zakiyyah Dzukogi
…certainly not,
you know, we’ve never wailed
at the blare of trumpets
nor gave up believing colour
for what we would’ve birth
from beneath the sand.
we’re not bears,
with neither fractured words
nor some mess of gristle.
the way we hold on to our hair clips,
swinging on those bellies
of the mute,
we never ate when we crawled,
they didn’t just feel in between our fingers,
not our words- not the cock on our heads.