Scrapes the walls of her cheeks, cracks

her uvula, searches the worn grooved tongue

rolls itself around, a dog learning to scratch

its back in tall grass, lolling tongue escaping

the beast’s mouth through jagged bone

Between us, a steel shadow clutches

the instructor’s hip, echoing in her laugh

where she finds a home. I want to hide

in its emptiness, bury my head

in its barrel, rest it below the hammer’s

punch, baptize myself in its imminent fire

She seals my documents with a milky tongue

Holds my indigo-stained fingers to the pad

Ink still fresh from my Igbo brethren

crushing the plants on Beaufort shores

I’m just up the road from their bones

in Johns Island sand. I hear their hollow

Blade my tongue with their chants

Fish my heart with flaming nets

rife with gun smoke, brooding

I am boiling dye

simmering in a cauldron

My stench rises to her nostrils

My ringing hands remember

the shot I just aimed, flames just tamed

Quenching my peoples’ thunder

No, we are not the same

She feels I will not laugh with her

She releases my soiled fingers

I release her cold shadow