Unblended

Unblended

Disposed

the innocent souls

of the abused.

The product of

big, sweaty bodies

and hard grunts

against soft brown bellies

in the small hours of the night

turning morning.

Taken by light skinned people who enjoyed

the pleas and cries to not be taken.

And so the innocent souls were taken:

to steep cliffs, swift rivers, unmarked graves,

and left in the darkest of shadows in the

deepest of cold for the beasts and birds.

The Black women stripped of pride,

of clothing,

of their own children from their own loins,

who would not bear the sins of unbidden masters.

Even the pale women of the false gentry demanded

the progeny of broken vows be slain, and sometimes

did the killing.

So many innocent souls

born to sorrow,

sent back to their Creator

by Black hands that would not

swaddle their shame.

Bed-wench hearts broken,

beating in Black breasts

that would not suckle and sanctify

the cries of their rapists’ sins.

Black bodies blighted

by blended flesh,

bloated by foreign sperm,

took back their lives and rid the world of others,

but never reclaimed their own

innocent souls.

Loved,

forlorn,

and forgiven.