We soiled ourselves with words
Skinning hope to shelter our homes
To birth our own freedom before the sun
Greet ourselves with our own moonlight
And Flesh the future into who we truly are,
Tomorrow will become a bracelet on our arms
Asking us to dine in the colors of her truth
You and me dressed in ourselves only
Holy, sculptured out of the dreams we keep
Behind closed eyes and what the ears feed on
We sat on the skins of gone and voiceless men
Who kept silenced on a thousand heartache
Listened to advices that poisoned “their” liberty
Questioning their manliness on the routes of deceit
Long before the ages of baobab trees and dinosaurs
Closeted with sea salt on their fresh wounds,
Along lines of cultures that were human sculpted
Long enough to deteriorate our sunshine
And ferment our father’s names
“Us”, sons and daughters of the sunlight
Earthmen manifesting,
The sun isn’t promised tomorrow
But when she does appear
I will ask her to embed us within her arms.
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