If I Am Your Grace
When you scream to the empty dark of night
And die to the silence it returns
I do not consider you,
I sleep - peacefully sometimes.
The last time I had a nightmare of you,
I God near drowned in the lint of my own blanket
to the violence of my wake,
My breath heavy and Indlamu on my chest
But when reality returns- so do I- back to sleep
I sit and watch gardens raise the earth
And the butterflies be as I am- Simple
Unbothered but desperate for rest the same.
If I am your grace, no one comes to save you
I do have my own graves to tend.
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