Come,
visit these nappy roots
before
hot combs
and weave teased,
pleased,wet your appetite
with visual delights and
big booty dreams,
this brown sugared thang
got layered pages,
Came,
natural
from the garden itself,
your
rib bone
tree seed,
flowered dust,
i do feel pain,
i do bleed,
so Come,
into velvet softness,
wisdoms
journey
smell the musk of time,
as time
is me
Iam your sister lost
between whitesheets,
and blues.

and
i will never be old.