And down into my little grave i trip
and trot, and count my steps to brace to fall
And to my little rotting hole i skip
Oh hear the grave-birds singing caw and call
...
The first Shimmer,
worlds began with a word
a single burgeoning of that first utterance
that created, shaped, moulded, developed, a beginning.
...
I am her that celebrates my wanton ways.
To lure men with my words is my intent,
with me he'll spend his nights, with you, his days
...
Abigail Brown is a Jamaican poet and up-coming novelist who is believed to have been born writing, and shall die thus. Twitter: @TheHigh_Council)
I Die Tonight
And down into my little grave i trip
and trot, and count my steps to brace to fall
And to my little rotting hole i skip
Oh hear the grave-birds singing caw and call
Oh hear the coffin-maker and grave master
Mourn how the gentle razor kissed my wrist
And how my blood kept running; Faster faster!
When death and i made love; we held a tryst
He opened his cold arms, i ran to meet him
He kissed me on the lips, oh cant you tell?
While you are in this world and still stuck breathing
I shall be safely locked away in hell.