The beauty of turmoil.
and hot combs,
Innovations of my people.
Feel good rhythm and blues,
Crying out to a God we can’t see,
We press on
Like how we press the blackness out of our ethnic strands.
Snap in our hands,
Punishment for trying to tame the beauty we have.
Strong mothers rise from the Nile River
To produce strong girls
Beauty of turmoil.