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.