Wounded Wonder
The fire of ferocity explodes
between my parted lips when I sing
Clap my hands, clasp God’s unchanging hand,
do my dance, or preach as God whispers
in my ear queer mysteries
like God didn’t say we are Her peculiar people
So when they don’t understand:
who I am,
how I am,
or whose I am
I can think to myself:
What a peculiar creature I be’s
What a magnificent revelation I am to be Black and disabled
Bipolar and burned
delightful and defiant
Elegant and eloquent
Fiercely fighting back
Ignorant and iconic
Kind and kindred
Laughing and lamenting
Nothing and noteworthy
Patient and pious
Queen and queer
Resented and resolute (Royalty and revolution)
Sister and selfless
Trying to teach while testifying
as a wonderful woman who is openly wounded
I’m not for you to understand
I don’t need your approval to exist
I am already existing
I am valid. PERIOD.