NYU Black Renaissance Noire Fall 2015 Volume 15.2 - Page 101

  4. The water of the world wants you to know something: It has no time for bullshit It’s busy It moves around from continent to island to ice to your tears My drought is your flood is somebody else’s Monsoon   99 BLACK RENAISSANCE NOIRE 5. Water, you traveler, bags always packed No map. No compass Heading out and heading in again And heading somewhere new   I stand here before you, Mostly water myself, but married to the solids of me In denial of the fluid truth   That I am tears, my blood my own little ocean, a tidal pulling and dreaming and pulling