Come lie down.
Beside me
there’s no other.
Push my firm words
inside your head,
my hard love,
‘cause tough love
crack tough skull.
You’re revolving on the rim
Come,
come down to me,
a stream of knowledge.

A woman was here.
Inside my head
I hold books.
She went with bungalow
and children.
Children are children;
like monkeys they mimic
Her every step painted in vivid green.
Come,
come lie down.
Beside me my story is.
The truth
is never a tale
spilled from sweetened lips.

Come,
come down here,
come lie down.
Beside me
there is none
that can whisper this chronicle,
my chocolate story -
bitter-brown -
composed with blood and feather pen.
Sculpted in her head is
her post-colonial self.
Come taste of the wine I’m poured.
Come, come,
come lie with me.