I gaze
Without notice
An anxious rush kicks in
Heart beats rapidly
Do I mind?
No
I feel alive
Her presence
An essence of the seven heavens

I am not Wakandian.

I wish I could look at a map and say
there that’s where my people came from.
Save money, board a plane, fly
to my ancestral home, and see what made me.

But Africa is a big place
and I’m not Kenyan, Nigerian or Ethiopian.
I have no claims to their past
and no right to their future.

All I know is I have some melanin, ***** hair,
and the knowledge that my ancestors blood and bones
set the foundation for a nation
that hasn’t made its mind up about me.

So sometimes I wonder what if my ancestors
had survived sugar fields instead of cotton.
Faced whips on the islands, instead of the south.
Would I then feel at home because I could look and know.

Or would that leave me emptier since here is still not there
and a claim to there would make me less here.
I guess until I figure this out I’ll take a made-up country
to be my made-up heritage

I am Wakandian

.

i want to buy these mice a home so
that their presence helps keep the table clear
i think i’ll place it in the gap between the door and the floor
in the hopes of keeping the noise out and
of having at least one of us feel
a sense of being welcome

the paper bags in my hands wouldn’t feel
heavy if they knew where they were going maybe
and hitting my head against the bed again doesn’t stop me from
showing off the letters on my chest although
i’ve been known to miss the mark

if there's a spark in her eyes it’s 'cause she stole the light from mine
but i like the cold because it makes me feel alive

my favorite part comes around
when the two trains meet and for a second
i can catch a glimpse of everyone’s place in the world
before we’re whisked away to
our respective loneliness

or maybe it’s where the streets
run narrow like those in the places where
connection, if anything, tastes a bit more genuine
it's quite polarizing but this time i’ll seek
comfort in the grey of it until it
all comes rushing back

they say home is where the heart is so this probably still isn’t it
but it will do for now

.

I’m going home
Even though supposedly
I’ve always been

I’m sure
If you search hard enough
You’ll find me

In a memory
Camouflaged as rose pedals
A gray sky perhaps

I’m going home
And when I do I will
Be a part of your world

At last