My Sistah Called Me

by Jeanarre M. Davis

My sistah called me yesterday.
My sistah asked me to go wit her-
So I did.

I went to her world,
Traveled back-wards from 
Woman to girl.

My sistah swayed up to money.
Shot it in her veins 
Without complaint 
She licked the wound
And wanted me to do the same-
So I did.

I convulsed, I 
Heard my pulse 
It sped and slowed  
And it played ping-and-pong
Like a hip-hop song.
It serenaded me and began 
Takin’ me away.

My sistah said she loves me. She 
Sleeps with many. 
She fuck family. 
She make money, and-
She wanna re-
Cruit me-
So I cry.

I cry cause
I want to take her from her world.
I cry cause
I want to grow her from that girl.
I cry cause
I want to mold her like clay.
Show her to lay stone, and
Teach her how to make a home.

My sistah she pretty.
She look like me.
We act 180 degrees differently, 
But our blood run deep. Our 
Blood leak the same
Hers turns to tar mine to tears.

My sistah takes in
Her world.
She suck in sin 
She sip crack.
She smoke gin.
Like children she 
Love all of them.

My sistah laughs. 
When she laughs
It is sweet. 
It can sing.
How it reminds me of 
Sunrises over purple horizons,
And lullaby’s ‘bout the moon shinin’
On me and on her like a rainbow.

My sistah has her time.
She has her babies.
I have mine.
Like I gave them life,
She lends out theirs for cab 

Unfair to the brown-skin-ed-pre-ty-ones  
Places them into empty homes.
In the dark and, 
In the alone and
That green touches their pretty bones.

My sistah will call me tomorrow.
My sistah will ask me to go wit her.
Sip wit her.
Smoke wit her.
I will only laugh wit her.

My Sistah Called Me by Jeanarre M. Davis

© Copyright 2006. All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be duplicated or copied without the expressed written consent of the author.

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