Tears on the back of my hand
Can i stand
the fire i am plunged into
is it true
divine image replicate thought
am i not
the daughter of the African plain
is it sane
high neck and brown eyes to the sky
tell me why
the heat permeates from my cheek
dare i speak
the words gathered up on my tongue
have they sung
places for my footsteps to go
is it so
the world living just as it planned
can I stand
the tears on the back of my hand
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