salt.

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salt. Page 4

by waheed, nayyirah


  –– the bastard construct

  knowing your power

  is what creates

  humility.

  not knowing your power

  is what creates

  insecurity.

  –– ego

  if we

  wanted

  to.

  people of color

  could

  burn the world down.

  for what

  we

  have experienced.

  are experiencing.

  but

  we don’t.

  –– how stunningly beautiful that our sacred respect for the

  earth is deeper than our rage

  if i have never seen you cry.

  if you do not cry.

  if you do not value or respect the needs of your water.

  you and i can not form.

  if you can not allow your own being

  to wash over you.

  how will mine ever make it past your skin.

  –– available

  beautiful

  is the highest compliment

  you

  can pay a woman.

  i watch women

  dive.

  to the ground.

  eat it.

  stand up.

  and

  smile.

  –– shame

  if you can not

  hear

  them.

  ask the ancestors

  to

  speak louder.

  they only whisper

  so

  as not to frighten you.

  they know

  they have been convinced.

  coerced.

  spooked.

  from your skin.

  –– communication

  weather

  is the

  earth’s

  emotions.

  she is obviously

  enraged.

  –– sentient

  there

  are some wounds.

  only

  africa

  can

  heal.

  –– in us

  a lie

  is

  simply a lie.

  it draws its strength from belief.

  stop believing

  in

  what hurts you.

  –– power

  your words walk down my back.

  this is how

  you leave me.

  –– vertebrae

  will you always be this pain in me.

  will you always hurt.

  you must

  put

  healing on the list.

  the grocery list.

  the to do list.

  the night list.

  because

  you are teaching

  your

  baby

  the very same chemistry

  that

  took your eyes

  and

  heart when you were four.

  –– the list

  you

  are

  your

  own

  standard of

  beauty.

  –– mirror work

  make sure

  they have fallen in love

  with

  your spirit.

  first.

  your body.

  second.

  –– the fragrance of your laughter

  i am often broken into language.

  whether i want to

  speak or not.

  i fell apart many times.

  so.

  what does that say about me

  besides

  i live through

  wars.

  my ancestors made sure

  i was born

  the color of their

  eyes.

  –– sight

  have you ever

  heard

  a black woman weep over her skinmurdered child.

  it is the splitting of atoms.

  it is billions

  of

  voices screaming their children’s names

  through

  her death wail.

  –– trayvon martin ii

  do you think

  calling me ‘angry’

  is an insult.

  every time you call me ‘angry’

  i hear your voice salt with guilt

  and

  i laugh.

  look how easy it is to reveal you.

  –– anger is a healthy and natural response to oppression

  it’s not about making you uncomfortable.

  it’s about making me comfortable.

  –– reparations

  i think one

  of the most pathological

  things i have ever seen

  is

  stabbing

  someone

  and

  then telling them that

  their

  pain and anger

  over being stabbed

  is

  making you sad.

  –– white guilt

  you can not

  remain

  a

  war

  between

  what you want to say (who you really are)

  and

  what you should say (who you pretend to be)

  you mouth was not designed to eat itself.

  –– split

  chemistry

  is

  you touching my arm

  and

  it

  setting fire to my mind.

  –– flood

  you ask

  your heart

  why it is always hurting.

  it says

  ‘this is the only thing you will allow me to say to you.

  the only feeling you are willing to feel.’

  weep.

  into your shirt.

  you’re allowed.

  –– clouds

  he said

  ‘my absence is strong and warm.

  it will hold

  you.

  it will teach you how to miss.

  how to be without.

  and

  how to survive anyway.’

  –– how my father raised me

  the stars

  will begin falling

  from your mouth

  the moment.

  you forgive yourself.

  for the silence

  you

  did not create.

  –– fault

  ‘i love myself.’

  the

  quietest.

  simplest.

  most

  powerful.

  revolution.

  ever.

  –– ism

  i want you

  to

  drink the sea inside of me.

  –– summer juice

  i dropped my pride

  in the gulf of your mouth.

  and

  i do not know how to swim.

  –– island

  i look for you

  in the middle of the light.

  in the west of the day.

  in the warm memory of the water.

  she is poem country.

  everywhere

  a

  language.

  writing.

  is the way

  your

  being speaks to you.

  –– conversations

  you are digging into my heart

  with both of your hands.

  who. what. are you looking for.

  i am right here.

  –– trust

  i wake up in a poem.

  i knew.

  read.

  sonia sanchez.

  nikki giovanni.

  audre lorde.

  before

  i ever even

  heard the name

  charles bukowski.

  finall
y,

  a proper education.

  –– the order

  hire her.

  for your children.

  for your kitchen.

  for your clothes.

  for your house.

  give her a room

  with an unmade twin bed and a dresser. an alarm clock.

  set her hours

  past her own children’s bed time.

  shorten her name.

  change her name.

  talk through her.

  call her a part of the family. without ever asking if she

  wants you this close to her skin.

  just

  do not be surprised the day

  you accidently

  look in her eyes

  and

  her spirit pulls your heart out through your mouth.

  –– the maid

  who you are.

  is not what you are doing.

  what you are doing

  is

  being

  someone else.

  –– architecture

  her love.

  was the only medicine.

  the only.

  medicine.

  that ever worked. and this is why.

  she left.

  she

  wanted yours to work.

  too.

  –– healer

  the thing you are most

  afraid to write.

  write that.

  –– advice to young writers

  when i am lost

  touch the back of my water

  and

  i will return.

  the wounds have changed me.

  i am so soft with scars

  my skin

  breathes and beats stars.

  i have lost millions and millions

  of words to fear.

  tell me that is not violence.

  –– the deaths

  if she is warm

  let me

  know her in the morning.

  we write from the body.

  it remembers everything.

  –– bone and soil

  your

  hands pouring sky

  all over my

  bed

  what language is that.

  your mother may

  never return from war.

  but

  you will still see her everyday.

  –– two

  fall apart.

  please

  just, fall apart.

  open your mouth.

  and

  hurt. hurt the size of everything it is.

  –– dam

  she was flower salt in my heart, and she hurt beautifully.

  for me

  there is no other.

  because there is no default.

  everyone

  is

  a variation of life.

  –– the human being | the human gender | the human sex

  it was

  i

  who held you

  when

  you

  wanted

  someone else.

  –– treason

  i saw love

  there

  i just did not pick it up.

  –– mistake

  express your sadness.

  inside

  it has only one place to go.

  –– tissue

  you are trailing long dust

  across

  our heart.

  there is an easier way to leave.

  –– over

  you.

  the weight.

  rose cinnamon.

  dark honey.

  the clothes you wear on your mouth.

  the warm smoke in your legs.

  a quiet quilt.

  a mason jar (for moon).

  an easy laugh brushed with oil.

  time.

  the light left over.

  some music in your hair.

  you.

  –– things you bring to the ocean at night

  why is the moon

  full.

  is it carrying the whole world

  too.

  –– daughter

  you are a sea of light.

  open your eyes.

  see yourself.

  i am terrified

  then i remember

  i am

  giving birth to a continent.

  i remember

  that

  i am giving birth

  to

  a continent over and over.

  –– the process | writing a book | the ancestors were my midwives | ashé.

 

 

 


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