fear wrestling

The merlot on my tongue
won’t allow me to speak.

I stain my pillow with attached prayers of something
betwixt the Ghana of my mane.

I walk with a cane looped to my belt to beat a fall
design distance from cerebral lessons

fear wrestling.
I wear tight shoes to ensure carefully calculated steps
abandon spontaneity
and disavow chances and dances with love.

taken from the book:


Get your autographed copy here


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