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Air Is

If it's an American story
  it's a Black story
If it's a White story
      it's a Power story

shared meaning
is not
fixed meaning

words
on top
your eyes
are not
precious

air is,

that dead bird
lifted
by crying
woman

...outside the pharmacy

'Sign of Death' she knows
'Shouldn't have told me that'

this attachment
is all fearing
uncertainty
mystic seperation
cosmic imbalance

your hate tipped the scale

stop your swirling

resurrect

love

  & fade...

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Comments


  • Pleasantly Insane
    October 28

    Edit | Reply

    Hmmm..

    Well I'm not exactly sure what to say about this poem. I kind of feel its a bit choppy. I feel like it doesn't flow well. But that just me.
    Good job otherwise.