Columbus mistakes manatees
for mermaids and on this day in history
we mistake black women for sea cows The swollen
midsections blown out of proportion Born out of a
mistake What have you mistaken at sea
for a grand illusion A black Madonna
holding a white snake in brown suede
coat its fangs like ivory horns ornately piercing
each of her wind torn breasts The pulp sifted into
open mouths like bellies of ships needing to be washed
out When the blood leaves a stain the rain finds a holy
way to put us in our place The hairs stand up on my
forearms like a sea urchin’s buzz cut and my father has
been out to sea for days But how can you be home
before dark when the body you call home is the darkness
itself You should never trust a poem that ends with a
question Never trust a daughter waiting at the window
for her father to come home He will have seen things
at sea Will have held a woman in his arms like water until
his breath was but a bubble floating upwards in the stained
glass In the back of my mind a crucifix rests its neck against
the wall trying to wrap its head around a serpent named
Eve If I only knew me better I would know I don’t know
nothin’ ‘bout nothin’ but cornfields and snow Your knees
cannot keep your legs from drowning The only ocean
I’ve ever known—the baptismal font on Sunday Water
poured down on my straightened tresses and the hair on my
head curling into hissing snakes tangled in the priest’s shaky
hands his jerking fingers a flicking tongue When he
lifted me up from that water pupils wide and white as milk
I don’t know who or what he thought he saw Anything but
a mother of a God
In Whose Image
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