Suga Making Sara

she was his ghost
yet she haunted me
more than he knew
“suga making” sara
left her mark
dancing sweeter
than any woman ought to

with a mesmerizing sway
her hips
liked to give way
to ancestral rhythms and beats
carried
by the spirits of African forefathers
buried
deep inside,
as if she was the field
where they died

not so far in the distant
memories
did evoke
a certain sadness
when he spoke
about the feather
in her flowing tresses
and the child
she chose not to birth
while my own labor bears
restlessness
with his blindness
to my worth

and as he did his dance
of remembrance
i could hear
faint footsteps of regret
as if he hadn't loved
like that since
but alas,
he seems to forget…

me.


~asabi