My feet a landscape of mines
My legs two full pails of water I spill
at the weight of
My back where the sharpest knives are kept
My hands a scatter of matches ready to spark into flame
This body is lightning
Strikes the same place more than twice
This body is a fist pounding its own hand
This body crumples like paper I crumple like paper because of this body
This body just wants and wants and wants
This body is a stubborn traffic light stuck on red
This body will
have what it wants Or it is
blasphemous tantrum down every grocery store aisle
This body makes an embarrassment of me
This body is
Then pleasure Then hunger
Then defender Then defendant
This body is Tupperware with its secrets sealed tight
This body scrapes and falls
Then gets back up again and again It's all I got to get back up with again
This body is an ocean of oil spill all over me.
Added: Friday, July 17, 2015 / Used with permission.
Camisha Jones is Managing Director at Split This Rock. She has performed poetry at the 2013 National Poetry Slam with Slam Richmond, the James River Writers Festival and the Virginia Festival of the Book. Camisha’s poems can be found in Rogue Agent, pluck!, the Dyer Arts Center's Unfolding the Soul of Black Deaf Expressions exhibition book,and The Quarry, Split This Rock’s social justice poetry database. She is also published in Let’s Get Real: What People of Color Can’t Say and Whites Won’t Ask about Racism (StirFry Seminars & Consulting, Inc., 2011) and Class Lives: Stories from Across Our Economic Divide (ILR Press, 2014).