I. HER Tell me, child whose flesh My teeth will come to taste in time, Does my sable skin offend? My gaping jaws, alarm? My trophies, drive you from my embrace? Does my writhing crown Turn your blood to sand Like Gorgon strands of darkness? Do my breasts entice your lips With streams of ivory milk Marbled with battle’s crimson nectar? And what of my hands, stained with victory? Are they cause for celebration? And my visage? Does it elicit worship? My grin, a muse? My gaze, an urge to kneel? II. ME Hear me, black ancestress; Queen of whose abysmal kiss, I am no longer afraid. Your beauty knows no bounds, Nor do the powers held within your palms. Your callous soles cavort Atop the corpses of the evils You have slaughtered in my honor. Your eyes entrance; Bloodshot and cavernous. Your love is all-consuming; Balanced in your dance Between creation and destruction. From your bubbling void, I crawled, And in your perfect cycle, I’ll remain, A testament to your glory.