Linked

I felt connection there, my yellow skin flashing in stark contrast with the black in my right hand, the white in my left. Freckles on my skin became those on yours; your curly red hair replaced my straight black -- my cracked determination was strapped to the splint of everyone's fragile hopes -- my straightened back emerged. The whiplashes of your grandfather's grandfathers seared into my skin like the sun, blackened, cracked, bandaged with the blood-soaked cotton rags that I plucked from his and his fields. Nights were spent dreaming of the day the wheels of my freedom train could take me away on the railway. On mosquito nights, sweat from heat and sweat from tarnished passion crept in. My legs were spread and Oppression was forced into my bowels like an unwarranted abortion; My child leaked out from between my legs and Bloodied my tattered skirt before I even got a chance to hold her. but from my wounds, my wings sprouted like a heralding dove of peace. There is so much passion, bridled, corked up and fermenting into the most pungent wine, nectar even sweeter than that found on Mount Olympus and we -- we, as One, are more beautiful and pure and wonderful than only one by himself. I carried your children and promises that were broken to you, suffered the infanticide of your precious daughter, held the gunshot-punched bodies of your brothers who fought for their freedom. Chains that once bound you become light when everyone bears them, and we bear them together, as a necklace as Humanity.