THE SONG          EXPANSES          ADD YOUR VOICE                  
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I climbed up from the throat of my fear
Sat on the edge of concern and watched
The sky sink the sun into oblivion

Every night I know the chorus
The sound of a meal clanging pots
The howl of a stomach rot
The barren moan of a lonely home

Who else smells freedom?
Like cinnamon sticks and sewage
It ain’t no easy win
It’s imprinted begins my closed eye lids

I prayed for you last night
Climbed my body up the rusted fire escape
And sang into Brooklyn’s hair
Like an old friend
She let me be peace
Let the crumbs from beneath my nails
Ease themselves from each bed
Like war lords and watched me grieve

What is freedom really, when rikers is an operating colony?

When rent strike is only ideology and the pandemic is phase one of the warning?

What is liberation when detention centers ransom people in search of peace?

Who fear they’ll end up in pieces?

Who cross their palms in prayer til the operation destroy civilians cease?

Who can sift neatly through the killers in the white house and the inmates in the SHU? Who can process the meat and call it good food? What lies have we swallowed whole? Who has an antidote? Is the ocean calling me? Can you hear the keys clinking sinking singing until it births a moon in me.

Give me a different kind
of freedom. One we ain’t consider yet. Where the bridges sink into trouble water and the water cleanses the streets of debt.

I prayed for ya last night.
Climbed the throat of my largest fear and opened my wings, full flight
My skin shining
like the light

Wont you help me carry this feeling home