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
