Lord, forgive me if my need Sometimes shapes a human creed.
Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, So I make an idle boast; Jesus of the twice-turned cheek Lamb of God, although I speak With my mouth thus, in my heart Do I play a double part.
Give but a grain of the heart's rich seed, Confine some under cover, And when love goes, bid him God-speed. And find another lover.
Death cut the strings that gave me life, And handed me to Sorrow, The only kind of middle wife My folks could beg or borrow.
Africa? A book one thumbs Listlessly, till slumber comes.
Quaint, outlandish heathen gods Black men fashion out of rods
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