This is not about you. This is not about the transmutation of your jail celled mind wrapped in self-help and cellophane.
This is not about your new found discovery discovering me and my afflictions according to the white manβs diction a dictation of my past extracted and examined under the microscopic power of time.
This is not about your self-defined enlightenment when you made a deal to unearth the truth of HeLa coated in dust covered particles of HeLa on your nightstand and I laid in a grave unmarked.
This is not about my big lips and thick hips under ***** covers running a sweat fever on my thighs shaking feet in stirrups and the pain was rich after a tight pinch and I didnβt know what part of me had been snipped to grow cold and never die.
No, this is not about you.
This is about me. A historic legacy left to thrive across the time less chains of nucleic tidal waves Covalent bonds could never rival the strides of this soul miles beyond the distant COLORED ENTRANCE something brewing inside dividing inexplicable replication, readying for harvest behind a dried tobacco field