Is he waiting for me under the water. Will he approve of me or beat me or love me, or even know me. In the kingdom of Benin metal was traded for pepper, ivory, and finally slaves.
History lives in the realm of the imagination as much as dreams.
Slaves across the water, the trauma of racism. My father did not particularly like the word black. My father would grow up to acquire metal, then what escape and peace it could buy. The reflection in the mirror this morning is somewhere beyond me. The construction of the African American me goes back over the water, past father, Daddy.