We soiled ourselves with words

Skinning hope to shelter our homes

To birth our own freedom before the sun

Greet ourselves with our own moonlight

And Flesh the future into who we truly are,


Tomorrow will become a bracelet on our arms

Asking us to dine in the colors of her truth

You and me dressed in ourselves only

Holy, sculptured out of the dreams we keep

Behind closed eyes and what the ears feed on


We sat on the skins of gone and voiceless men

Who kept silenced on a thousand heartache

Listened to advices that poisoned “their” liberty

Questioning their manliness on the routes of deceit

Long before the ages of baobab trees and dinosaurs

Closeted with sea salt on their fresh wounds,

Along lines of cultures that were human sculpted

Long enough to deteriorate our sunshine

And ferment our father’s names

“Us”, sons and daughters of the sunlight

Earthmen manifesting,


The sun isn’t promised tomorrow

But when she does appear

I will ask her to embed us within her arms.