Grandmother, Give Me Africa

I know there’s untold stories in the cementary under your tongue
Litanies outstretched across the palms of your hands
So grandmother, tell me your African name before they came
Show me how to play those African drums until they told you to stop
Teach me how to sway my African hips to our African spirituals
Lend me your hands and let me feel the strength between them
Grandmother, what was our language before the bondage of our people
Let me feel your hair and let my fingers dance between your kinks
Give me apart of you
A part of what was African
What is African
What is home
What is me
What is absent


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