In Darkness And In Light (by Dez Savoy from New Orleans, LA)
"…am I deaf or dead…walking through the dirty streets of this fucking city…
…seeing my reflections through the dust of each building…through construction sites of
..constricted predisposed dispositions….vacant stares no longer stain the innocence of my being…I didn’t come into this universe pure…scarred with the rust from your knife…every prejudice…lie…corruption of church and state….no…we were not born pure…contrasts on every street corner I pass…who I am today…isn’t who I will be tomorrow…when you love….let people be who they are…without the shame..without the desolate judgments…stopping in the store windows reflection….I am not sure which me that I love…deaf or dead words fall on deaf and dead ears….I can smell the stench of your henchmen’s hands…the rot below…deep inside your black heart…you cannot hide…it follows you like a thousand blood hounds as they track your flesh…reflections of what I see…are not always pleasant…..what is congruent…in all reflections of my being…is this burning fire….the burn the starts from the roots of my foundation…through my loins…to the crown of my self….is the ethereal compound….that has created me and you…will prevail…and carry us….into the dance…I see….through the reflection of your eyes…reflections."
…seeing my reflections through the dust of each building…through construction sites of
..constricted predisposed dispositions….vacant stares no longer stain the innocence of my being…I didn’t come into this universe pure…scarred with the rust from your knife…every prejudice…lie…corruption of church and state….no…we were not born pure…contrasts on every street corner I pass…who I am today…isn’t who I will be tomorrow…when you love….let people be who they are…without the shame..without the desolate judgments…stopping in the store windows reflection….I am not sure which me that I love…deaf or dead words fall on deaf and dead ears….I can smell the stench of your henchmen’s hands…the rot below…deep inside your black heart…you cannot hide…it follows you like a thousand blood hounds as they track your flesh…reflections of what I see…are not always pleasant…..what is congruent…in all reflections of my being…is this burning fire….the burn the starts from the roots of my foundation…through my loins…to the crown of my self….is the ethereal compound….that has created me and you…will prevail…and carry us….into the dance…I see….through the reflection of your eyes…reflections."
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