invented sin

my best friend

used to always tell me

God invented sin

that we might know

His Grace.

My lips partly cracked,

Chapped and needing

The moisture of

Your love.

Breast misconfigured,

Don’t know if they should allow

Air in or shorten the movement.

They are itching for

Your remembrance.

Who you be

That I want

To invite sin

All up in

Me house

Tell it to relax

Sit down

And watch

The belated fireworks

I love you.-

9 July 2006 (c) Ama Maynu. All rights reserved.

Contemporary African American Poetry