Have you ever heard a black woman’s cry?


It comes from a crest in the soul

where the walls never touch so the sound

comes from all around.


It’s a hole

that speaks in wallows from the inner voices of those hanging in the gallows.


It’s earnest and honest.


It pains to hear because I know it sears as it leaves her already blackened throat.


Oh, that sound knows no death.

And so I’d rather be deaf

than to hear the sound of the black woman’s cry.


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