If words describe my face
not shade not shadow
nor contours hue
purple blue, brown yellow
the desire of words I hear
words I seek
I can see beyond words ink
to liberties speak
that are free like the
Nile of blank creases inside my hand
held firm amidst a delta of pains
shaking the hands of words
that grip us voiced
that craft loud full the African jewel
that ever shield
the us and the ancient tusk
of bold gold -black sway
the psalm of found memory
and sound of verse
that ancients retold our gold
that quench of thirst
of that shining burst music
Africa lives re-told
and fingerprints of oral trade
in ancestral resilience
is no longer betrayed
but spread in the diaspora of all words