She birthed
laughter, through prayer and rhythm.
I can hear heavy moans multiplying;
like evergreens planted by the waters.
Gurgling plops of translucent hope.
No more bleaching cream or formulas’ for cocoa butter tones.
The patches of skin laid by the Almighty
imperfectly red-brown
I am ,
beauty of peace,
this is my healing.
Poet Krissy Mosley© 2014
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