You’ll never get to meet them as friends, they’re lost in their love
War has hidden them behind burnt windows, now lost in their love
Mismatched, brown and white, they stood together
Hidden, alone she birthed in a pantry a son, lost in their love
They stood painted as crimson sinners by howling butchers,
Palmless mobs stoned them, they were, lost in their love
Unmarked grave (no vowels nor consonants) was their fate
Because they were different, they were lost in their love
This poet’s tears still fall now as I think of their end
The fanatic’s hand felled them – they were lost in their love.
THIS WEEK’S WORDS come from “Ghazal for White Hen Pantry” by Jamila Woods: brown, friends, white, palm, born, burnt, consonants, windows, unmarked, sins, paint, pantry
Bastet and Sekhmet's Library 