Cane Juice Libation

Playing dead-fuss’, last lick, 
rounders, pitching tops
under the breadfruit tree
you helped me climb 
so you could look up my dress.

Pulling my hair, 
braided like the rope 
on Sonny Boy’s boat,
where we hid and watched

Rain tongue-kiss Sea.
Only You. 
Only Me.

“Sun with old man name
“never sees night,”
Dowager said.

No last lick Dada.
Black like a starless sky, 
no last goodbye.


ink•dex ink•mAiL
©1996CAQuashie aka Ghetto ink