Fire burned.

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She laid down in the wild out
Dirt,
In a bed of mud
Where rain poured its venom
with vengeful coy
But she- she, fire
Undying, un- giving
Burnt with unmatched valour
Setting water aflame
She hurt, broke
But with style and passion
She fought to ashes
Till the rains washed her off
And they mourned,
Oh the skies mourned
Carrying her musk through
So everyone knew
That she, fire, had burnt to earth
But no one saw it
No one saw the gleaming eyes
Of the flames that licked ice
Off the rain drops as she burned
That she- she rejoiced
With each ash she shed
That she had finally been noticed
For the first time, since.

**

© The Short Black Girl, 2015.

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June.

June

Yesterday, I saw June,

Waltz by in dazzling shades of blue,

I almost thought she looked nice,

That was a while before I saw her eyes,

Sad, forlorn,

Withdrawn and lost,

And her puckered lips,

Did little to give her face a lift,

My heart sunk,

What went wrong?

In that moment, I discovered one truth,

She may never be the same without you.

**

© The Short Black Girl, 2015.