#25DaysofPoetry Day 2 - Madrugada
Madrugada (A love song)
Madrugada is Spanish & Portuguese for “early morning”
Your skin blooms the color of heaven...
it is where God resides. Wear your wings
proud as the obsidian of your armor. I’d swallow
your halo and let your gospel flow through me.
We communion at the altar of your spine
where my lips kneel for sacrifice. Your
curves are a love song swaying in the
orchestra of my devoted hands. You be Christ
with hips and a southern accent, galactic
power lines hang like thick coiled prayers
from your scalp. But even when you’re rocking
a fade, your head becomes the most gorgeous
wi-fi hotspot unworthy eyes can connect praises to.
You are a shapely portal through time, a divine
reminder of Afrika before the mouth of colonization
ate from your table, and never said Grace.
Before he ate from your fruit and had not
washed his hands. Only broke….bre/d…while you
*Repeat* in one hand, stop the world and teach it
how to revolve properly with the other. I’ve never
seen white flags raised from your backbone
You are womban – when everything else around
you is ground zero – rising like a sweet perfume
or the holiest of songs from this trumpet horizon.
I sample the universe from your ebullient belly:
A harmonious Mantra spins from your craft,
beckoning our kiss to hum the promise of a supernova
of music. Your body is a Grand Piano,
but how this world often wished you silenced…
into thinking woman isn’t enough
– and you aren’t enough woman –
said you were two X chromosomes shy of being
God (though you gave birth to him).
What better way to control the universe,
than by imprisoning the body which gave it
breath. Naked of right, struck nameless
When the Trinity at your fingertips makes wine
from impossible, transmuting pain into loaves
of miracles and love all before sunrise.
by Pages Matam