Untitled* | Anonymous Contribution


There is a tail in each kink

There is toil in each coil

This hard hair holds tough pasts


My dark hands bound with chain

Sleek and dark with the dried blood

From those before me


Pack me into your box

Set me high on your shelf

Another tone you conquered


Each strand is a story

Of the quests that led to this

As I stare at white master


From my containment of past

In my hold of tone

Let white hand place me


In places of comfort

As borders are drawn

Clans are joined


Take my land

Take my people

As I stand silent in my cell


Take me out of this place

Brush my hair

Put me into your clothes


As I speak your language

As I live in your ways

Let all that was me fade into my braids


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