Hair sweet movement – stops and starts
while breath fixing down, way down –
she hangs to life.
Oh, she sees no end in sight.
Poor baby lost in lust, an addiction to
white boys and servants.
This is final she kids him not.
No more, no less – just right.
A sweet serving and pass the salt.
Arms fixing hair while hands hang on.
Her breath greases grip.
She held tight.
This doesn’t mean much if
you weren’t there to see.
If you were and she was – colored
paper rang all the news.
She sees no end in sight, so
she left her grip.
She fell six inches deep.