Noir, une lumière
There is a sorceress in our night. A sky that only moves memory to make
place for the mangoes of last month. There is an old man who says, Libére
moi. And means, Take everything but my blackness. Only in the dark do
doves find reason. Only in the dark do doves have reason to believe that
vengeance is light hanging on fallen tree. After each fall, we ask, where is
the island, the sugarcane that disappeared in our hunger, the water that
emptied our thirst, the song that robbed our nightmare? They mock us.
They tell us to whisper in their ears. They will obey. But curses beat the air
wild. The air is faint. And they tell us, Stop plotting fire. You are in the wrong
land even if the roosters recognize you. They hated our black. What they didn't
understand is that it illuminates their world.