Monday, September 12, 2011

To A Black Girl by Gwendolyn Bennett (1927)

I love you for your
And the rounded
darkness of your breast
I love you for the
breaking sadness in your voice
And shadows where your
wayward eyelids rest

Something of old forgotten queens
Lurks in the lithe
abandon of your walk
And something of the
shackled slave
Sobs in the rhythm of your talk

Oh, little brown girl, born
for sorrow’s mate
Keep all you have of
Forgetting that you once
were slave
And let your full lips
laugh at Fate!

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