I hear popping
in my right ear again.
It happens every time I chew
and it annoys me so
to the point where
I have a hard time
breaking things down
enough to swallow.

Yes, I have choked
now and then
because the popping is beginning
to sound more like guns
and my ears like
to pretend to implode.
So my jaws have rested
and the throat that carries my voice
proceeds.

To be a black girl is to be ancient
A walking cemetery
A womb to only carry lynched sons and kidnapped daughters
Have feet made of fossils
Learning the oil spill of her birth
A hip strong enough for her kin
An underground railroad kind of back
Backside to sit glass on
And still enough of herself to share in
Easy like Sunday morning
Quiet in her protest
I said to be a black girl is
To be a crying sun
Tears of skies holding onto stars
Is to be a sky holding itself close at night