Seven (1998)

(Spoken Word, for Ntozake & Colored Girls who come with their own things.)

Seven large seashells
draped round her neck
the first and fourth for love
the second for sex
the rest, regret
...............except for December

You see she opened her door wide
and smiled at him some
on the seventh day of the seventh hour of the moon eclipsed sun
light slipping through the doorway
down on weathered ground
she looks up
epiphany
sound

his head crowned with rotund clouds
and slip china lips
twiddling his fingers
that had magic
in their midst
staring at her hips
and lips
and hips
See, things like this only happen in cinematic formulas
and love don't really get u high like angel dust
and she never thought she would want someone
so much
as to trust
his voice
sweet and strumming
a someday soon tune
a see you in June tune
a waxed moon tune

Come here he said
and like a dog she did.

Breathing the air he echoed
excited
invited
giddy and young
the way we all are
green
like leaves
before the autumn comes
and we begin to shed childhood
like a tree sheds fall leaves
and she believes only
cauze young seeds
need roots

and he's
looking like
God
cut him out the sky
in his tall black boots
bright wistful wanting eyes
of all the love he's never had before
she
-we was born under a cursed star
a vexed constellation
so that every time she sought love
it wasn't in her fate and
voodoo and karma ‘musta been what kept her
waiting and hopin'-- right?

Seven years old
and daddy slipped away
like a darning needle
and she learned
the truth is
everyday people who make no concerted effort to treat you evil
still will
walk right on over you
to fulfill their own self centered motivations
and she didn't wanna be a princess without no throne
scrubbing scuffed marked lacquered floors until they shone
like mirrors
of her own reflection
.........like mama?

But is started first with a ride
y'all remember the day when love was new and fast and high
and the sexiest thing a man could say
is "I'm driving it."?
Riding down the freeway
of love
on the wings of doves
dreaming of rivers
and love
The earth their kingdom
and they be
deity
then he slipped his hand
on her knee
and she feels
the lightning of electricity
the sweetness of a first kiss
the palpability of lips
the nexus of hips
and just-that-quick
he's made marble lipped poetry to her.

Then it was over.
He put his coat on. He walked outside.
And he left.
And he didn't leave talkin' 'bout no rivers and love
No he asked her," What you doing here, girl?" It's time for you to go home now!"

Now babygirl is big
round, like the moon
With child, deliverance comes soon
On Sundays she scrubs floors with mama
for too little pay
and her birth pains be quick
life tearing and flesh
because on the seventh day of the seventh hour of the seventh month
girlchild is laid to rest

Yes, hefty bags do not make proper caskets

I guess the wanting
was too much?

Seven large seashells
draped 'round her neck
the first and fourth for love
the second for sex
the rest....regret
except for December
Sometimes, she touches them
and she
remembers....