For My Singing Sister

Little sister, not all black
people are all ready
people
are not always black
people
finding them
selves close
to how they see
themselves
being most important.

I see your friends are
young skinny girls sometimes
tall sometimes slight sometimes
beige and neutral or mean or honest or weak
sometimes warm some
times even you
haunted by fat black women who alter
like dreams in a shattered mirror
becoming
sometimes tall sometimes slight sometimes
beige and neutral or mean
honest or weak sometimes warm
sometimes even you
hiding in a bloodbath of color
as you slice up love
on the edge of your little mirrors
making smaller
but not safer
images of your sun.

Cherish your nightmare
sister
or under a cloak of respect
the fat black witch
may be buried
with a silver stake
through your heart.