Onyame
you
have two pockets that sit
above
and in
the curves of your smile.
i scared
sacredly
scarcely look shallowly into.
nakedly i expose my soul
to search your soil full pockets.
your two pockets
that sit two stories deeper
than the ones that are
squished between my shorts and skin.
two pockets full of
gold and gravel
gem and stone
crystal and dust.
they have only been sort of sorted through.
so you can sort of express yourself
soulfully to souls who
sort of know you
and sort of care about you
but still don't care enough to
sort through the sorts
of pure
crystallization
mineralization
and refinement that you sort of know are there.
my flicked up fingertips with power
bent towards Onyame from
my prowess to prey
attached to this vessel
that was made for sorting.
like levers made for flicking
up to the surface
assorted gems in your soil.
i have him
Sun / Rā / Onyame
masculine in my left limbs
and he burns in holy silence.
Owia Kokroko: the greatness of the Sun
keeps distance between us for a reason
but when he steps out to make love to my body
and nurture my pores with light
i am taken away in a feverish trance
i learn my spirit dance.
the Sun i understand more than some
though they speak words
they fly past my ears like the air of Oya
who brings death to them
for they do not carry what she needs to create renewal.
i have her
Earth / Papatūānuku / Asase Yaa
feminine in my right limbs
she steps out from the ground
with a holy sound
she is a tribe within herself
holding tribes with herself.
long limbs of elegance for branches
as she moves to the force and current of the
gentle pushes from Oya her sister
left and right bodied
ready to bring you
balance you cannot bring yourself.
my arms already ache
elbow high in soil
ready to dig mine into yours.
they
taught us marriage by the ring
not root - western;
they tied and bind us to the man.
made man-made plans
that lacked any molecule of 'holy matrimony'
they called it.
helping them hold, heave and
sew greed into their gowns of our guts.
they
taught us marriage by the root
not ring - ancient;
we married to the land first
then to marry ourselves
together.
left and right limbed
heavy and hot
ready to bring help.
helping you heal, heave and
sew harmony into your skin of scars
Follow more of Sioness at https://sioness.wixsite.com/kasa/