Sugar Cane Kindred
When my ancestors find me again in sleep
my eyelids are crusted in sugar.
I molasses into the syrup of them,
poured over muscovado and rum.
My ancestors’ ribs are
made of sugar.
Siphon the white gold
from their Black …
When my ancestors find me again in sleep
my eyelids are crusted in sugar.
I molasses into the syrup of them,
poured over muscovado and rum.
My ancestors’ ribs are
made of sugar.
Siphon the white gold
from their Black …