Blood on the leaves and on the root
There was not room for consent with sting already in our bones
We are among the fog,
above the sharks under the bridge.
The water that gets stuck up your nose,
& comforts the dust of bones that found liberation in the ocean.
Exhausted by our own strength,
tourists film our deaths
“on our trip to America we saw Black people eaten alive”
outside our cousins are trying to breathe with no air.
between the creases of my skin it travels with me throughout the day
….. smashed between my legs as I walk to work.