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As I think back I remember,
down through the seasons of my years
The times when not only my mouth but my lips were dry.
Dry Lips
That had been deprived of the touch of your sweet wet kisses,
Dry Lips
From all of life’s lacks and longings
When for food water and other things,
I went without for too long and I lingered in a wanting.
Dry Lips
That was silenced from speaking my truths
Parched from hiding behind lies and make-believe
Programmed in from way back when.
So I did not speak what I knew
I did not speak for fear of retribution
And I fell into a depression and numb solitude.
Living behind pressed lips
While life paraded on by tarnished and stained
With unfairness, racism, and inequality
But I was told,
"Stay quiet little lady,
Stay in your place or you will be sorry
Don’t try and fix what you think is broken
When the system has always worked this way."
So my lips went from wet to dry
Except for the moisture that came from the rivers of tears I cried.
Because you were gone and I was left all alone.
Rivers of tears I cried,
When as a single mother I struggled to find ways to feed my young
So I sacrificed, fasted and went without, in the desert of my days.
A river of tears I did cry
Because I was afraid to exhale and open my mouth wide
And lift my voice and speak my truth.
And I remember the season
When I hit rock bottom and experienced a dark night of the soul
When I could no longer find the tears to cry
And my lips were dry…