If I knew I would bury my seed
And feel the rot which my happiness bought
And rock the cot which cries of cold
I wouldn’t have bothered in its plantation
If I knew the ways of death
And of its throat
Which swallowed more than pythons
In a realm where my eyes can’t reach
I wouldn’t have formed for it a pet
Which it would take from my Love’s nest
I know I have no power to make
I know I have no power to break
I know I have no power to take
But why does my heart so shake?
Call death to my pain’s court!
Call death to my sorrow’s fort!
Call death to my darkness ring
To show a face which hosts the mouth
To show the mouth which hosts the tongue
That took my seed without a note
So I can touch the soul of my soul
So I can touch the heel of my myth
To be an addition or an exchange deal
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © October 28, 2017