The Load Bearer
Where am I to place all the merciless murders of the unarmed? In 12 inches, she will carry them. As there are lavender angels who fashion dolls to look as I look, to be the load bearer.
The artist said, “We will call her Semaj.” Thank you Rosie Ray-Henderson for this soft mirror, reflection of styled upholstery, reading fire wind. Welcoming her is affirming as she is extant, a creation from where the sea levitates as sky, from where a stone speaks slowly of time, from where pregnant is the laugh with sorrow, with consternation, and careful joy, from where 2,000 years before, I drank waves from Kilimanjaro Falls, cascading and carving prophecy inside of me.
Today, I write her name in the Book of Blood River Twisted Carcass: Breonna Taylor lives in this land of no wings.