not a place we can go to have my grandmother tell you again how my uncle is born with a tooth.  where slavery just a star watched and watching and **** just a rainbow bent to its work.  where young we are shaken like gifts and we want people and the emptiness of people put to death.  where grey flutes.  where milk is in our blood and ghost letting.  where hope is ugly but don’t tell it.  where a man moves over a woman so that she is equal and equally ransacked of travel.  where in a field this far away one can go out of body and claim finders keepers.  where a bottle as we are speaking makes it to a baby full of pills.