Killy Willy

i sat

with him

on

an African night.

and i wanted

a sweet..

knowing me

he

knew what i needed;

he brought me

‘killy willy’–

sweet plantains

with spices

topped with

ground nuts.

i knew if this

had been my place

as a girl

i would have been happy;

no one to taunt

the kinks

of my

short hair,

my adolescent curves,

my guileless

predisposition.

but rather i

would have walked

through dark nights

sight-full

and carried baskets

on my head

and fried fish

outside of my place.

but alas,

I am strung

with Americana;

i wear

it’s brand

upon my heart

stretching the waters

like slave ships…

captive,

with no

release.
Linda Tauhid

4/10/16

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