ATLANTA (FOUR | BUD)
Darrell Spearman Darrell Spearman

ATLANTA (FOUR | BUD)

Do not yell at the bud

Take good care of it

Remind it that it will bloom, righteously

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ATLANTA
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ATLANTA

“Brown skin, you know I love your brown skin”

India’s voice fades out of the speakers

My brown skin never fades

It remains,

always <3

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DISSIPATE

A fragment of sunlight sat as a patch on a rooftop

The windows of the building concealed images

of whatever bodies swarmed the place

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SHEDDING

I am an adder snake

shedding the constraints of silk sheets of brown and gold

braided into one another like twisted roots

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PICTURE

I disappeared into a new unknown, swallowed by an indulgent gust of sunlight and colors

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TWO BODIES (OF WATER)

a flat sheet of rock

that shook from the effervescence

of one’s tenacity to explore the other

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OCEAN OF TIME

A silent sense of urgency dancing angrily inside of me

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LINE (OCEAN OF OCEANS)

In the hold of a slumber, captivating and broad, I went to a place where present and past had fought to know each other’s place

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PIANO KEYS

Sun rays ran across my skin

in the deepest darkest faze

as I met his gaze

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EMERGENCE

and I can feel it rising through my ankles, coiling upward through my legs, with the energy of a twirling ballerina

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THE JOURNEY BACK

I could no loner distinguish between the color of my skin and the captivating indulgent, heavy soil

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UNRAVELING
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UNRAVELING

Like a snake coiled around its prey, I have held onto myself the power of fear and restraint bullying my courageous child

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SUBMERGENCE

music, the only way to sense my identity in the row of resemblance

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PRIDE

I am still learning how I celebrate my identity.

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PARIS
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PARIS

An afternoon in Paris.

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