Poem 352/365:2015

if I were a flower

perhaps I would be picked

loved and admired

but I am a black

made of stone

if not shot

beaten

until…

choking

I dream of water

twin rivers falling

rushing to my feet

if I were a fish

I could swim

through them

even get deeper

than bullets

in flesh

deeper than

than empty—love

©Tshombe Sekou