#2 of Maafa cycle
Eyes caked shut
Eyes are met by newborn cries and warmth.
A corpse straddled by a nuzzling babe with a searching mouth,
Lies next to me.
Somewhere between the haze of tormented
Sleep and raucous waking hours, my neighbor gave up her child – laid
It gently on her chest and slipped into death.
Here in the mouth we are slowly chewed
This new young thing exists- now its life
Belongs to no one until his cries are heard
And here I have heard them.
He is mine – I reach my hand
Heavy with iron toward the child
He slips easily from the cold body
He is mine- this fresh skinned cherub.
He is mine – in this mouth we are chewed, prepared for digestion
He is mine – I have no milk
He wails – I am without.
I can only hold – He wails – I cannot –
I will send him to the waves.
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