The Crack in Our Line
Come with me as I backslide
to someplace far back in time
when rappers were griots
storytelling urban deities
making bootstraps of rhyme
Welcome to the other side
Before the female fall from grace
into the great crack in our line
that put our sisters on their knees
stole our grandmother’s wings
spoiled the fruit of our wombs
filled our breasts with poisoned powder
before the world found us complicit
in the crimes against us
Before the crack in our line
that opened the nightly news
to let the World peek through
for a million views upon our shame
that let our men see us this way
before we choreographed to the soundtrack
of their disdain
for the things that we became
before we saw them rise upon stages
and fall into cages
before they made lovers
of one another
Slide your mind back even further
when pussy was not a punk, but power
womanhood was a valued treasure
and the measure of beauty
was not in the contours
of a drag queen’s face
Gracefully, we cross at the ankles
never taking calls after midnight
from men who are not our lovers
understanding
something
does not come from
nothing
Come with me if you do not mind
to a moment in time
when the daughters of the sun
know exactly who we are
where God is
and where God is not
And that if any man is so inclined
to look for God
he can find him in us
With the power to let loose a demon
with our fingertips
there is no need to fall as prey
to pimps and tricks
Silenced not by consensus but because
we exist in the golden place
where truth is revealed to us
Here, we are loved by our family
for bringing them to life
and keeping them alive
We drink from a well
of indigenous wisdom
to care for them
with healing brews
of herbs and pot liquor
we are plugged in
downloading answers
from the most high
And the music,
and the music?
The music we dance to
is not skeeted upon walls
like sour milk
to be lapped up by
mothers and daughters
on capital alters
It is in the air between us
on energetic waves
of electric conversations
our souls have with each other
that do not digress
We move to the pounding rhythm
of our man’s healthy organs
the throbbing pulse of his manhood
the beat in his chest
of our children’s laughter
hips giving birth to happiness
love on our lips before we lay
with our husbands
with our husbands
with our husbands
loving us under the law of God
awed by his masculinity
never giving in to less than we deserve
knowing his worth
we push our men to be stronger
building kings, we are proud to serve
kisses on our mouth before we part
he leaves for honest work
with his family’s respect in his heart
He always comes home
Before the Earth cracked open
and our self-respect fell in
we were only bitches
in defense of our children
and of the lives we built
with good men
by Jessica Holter