Black-Handed Curse
–Wanda Coleman

May the sky widen between your eyes
and a storm twist across your thoughts.

May the false images you create devour all you
give birth to. May the false images you worship obscure love.

May you look in the mirror and see the malignancy.

May you writhe in dishonor. May you writhe hearing the voices
of those you have dishonored. May you writhe knowing the
whole of the pain you’ve caused others.

May the limitations you impose on those more gifted
than yourself steal the beats of your heart.

May you be kept out of the heaven
from which you have kept others.

May no one hear your last words.
May a small rodent eat your last words.

Photo by Giorgio Trovato on Unsplash