Tag deep poetry
My beauty walked out of the door
Without saying good-bye.
My passport photos are my proof.
Without saying good-bye.
My passport photos are my proof.
My precious ally has found a new face
Not touched by grief, lack of sleep
And broken dreams.
My Northern skin cannot wear
this tropical complicity. Give me
a hundred names for snow,
Wagner,
Give me all the guilt
I never owned.
this tropical complicity. Give me
a hundred names for snow,
Wagner,
Give me all the guilt
I never owned.
My sweat smells like Dachau,
even under Caribbean blooms, even
after I have thumbed it red. I wear
other cultures because mine is
