For Coloured Girls

Dark frazzles of womanhood, of never having been a girl
Half note, scattered without rhythm
No tune distraught, laughter falling over a black girl’s shoulder
It’s funny, it’s hysterical the melodiness mess of her dance
Don’t tell nobody, don’t tell a soul

She’s dancing on beer cans and shingles
This must be the spook house,
Another song with no singers, lyrics no voices
And uninterrupted solos, Unseen performances
Are we goons, children of horror, the joke?
Don’t tell nobody, don’t tell a soul

Are we animals? Have we gone crazy?
I can’t hear anything but maddening screams in the soft streams of death
And you promised me, you promised somebody anybody
Sing a black girl’s song
Bring her out to know herself, to know YOU
But sing her rhythms, caring, struggle, hard times, sing her song of life,
She’s been dead for so long, closed in silence so long
She doesn’t know the sound of her own voice
Her infinite beauty

She’s had notes scattered without rhythm, no tune
Sing her side, sing the song of her possibilities
Sing a righteous gospel
Let her be born
Let her be born and handled warmly
And this is for coloured girls who have considered suicide
And moved to the end of their own rainbows

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