Reveries of Longing: Reveries of Longing

The Brooklyn Village Womyn

23 The Brooklyn Village Womyn i tell her she can only run so long ’til cross country bridges give way. tell her she musta mistaken herself for some west african creole womyn washed up in the new orleans 9th ward and she’s confused. learned to wrap stories around shoulders for protection. wound pashmina memories from shoulder blade to shoulder blade making sure neck to back covered. times is chilly so she always wants to be secured. but this time time was slow coming. a pang started from turn styled bellies too used to usa packaged rice and too dry tasting maize. she tries to cross stitch the pain away rock herself in another womyn’s tender to childhood away adult girl memories. see she was born in a hospital to cold hands with no home promised and it’s fitting because she’s been looking for home ever since. she rests only when told but sleeps with her third eye open. the other two close, but always in remembrance of what crawls in the dark. it doesn’t always have to be biting roaches or big scary men for her it is the fear of demons who fly into pigs and cause convulsions. in the mornings she mistakes disappearing acts for the rapture until she realizes everyone leaves some time or another. 25 she tells me palm lines only tell you how far your river can reach but they never tell you why nobody wants to swim in your waters, never tell you where the fishes went or why fresh water springs turn to swampy hollowed caves i tell her no amount of chewed miraa and smoked emindi takes the pain away. she tells me the story of a man who has a wound that won’t heal. five years his wound still pusses because something pierced him that shouldn’t. she says maybe he and her are cosmic soul mates his leg her heart. i tell her life wasn’t made for all of us. maybe she’s like vanilla in a desert or a baby in an internment camp not meant to survive at all. she tells me maybe at some point in time she was supposed to sing universal lullabies and maybe the sun really does shine in her eyes but those are talents for the blessed of the earth. and she carrying the weight of babylonian towers and civilized promises can’t afford to sing right now. she has a heart that won’t stop pussing and eyes that won’t stay open. ...