somehow from the inside
wanting to get out.
Hearing faraway calls of my ancestors
they visit just out of sight
but I can smell their perfume
reeking of browning flowers and moist dirt
surrounding memories of praise and admiration.
My eyes search a dark room
in hopes of this ray of light
instead hearing the scampering of battlefields where lovemaking and giggling girlfriends blow in the trees.
The oils from my hair and skin itch me
and attracts the shadow that clings to my body like a breast feeding infant.
Tears run down my cheek and into my mouth
nourishing my salty imagination
liberating my tongue to explore the mouths of baptized prophets finding their calling.
Their words make me want to vomit up righteousness and power
emptying my gut so my tummy is flat and indifferent
leaving me cold and quiet
like an iceberg floating towards an unexpected breath.
My heart pounding me into flight
breaking through the tapestries of injustice and fair play
holding inflexible so no one can get inside without the combination.
Private not by choice
but to survive
to continue to whisper regrets and admissions
coughing apologies in hopes of affecting intimacy
like a kiss on the forehead
or a slow dance on the tarred roof of redemption.
Excuse my weaknesses
my shortcomings for they are many.
There are no alibis
or rationalizations that suffice.
There are no exceptions.