"go head and lay down"/my nana's curses
by KIIAN DAWN
in Spring 2022
Ani Lacy, Sally in a Shop Window, 2022
"go head and lay down"
i rest more than i need, my spirits tell me
the coming days are going to be short and
challenging, but the nights unending.
man pushed the moon too far, and now
her back peels off yesterday ‘cause standing
in front of the sun, frozen, is a trauma response.
nobody remembers the sun anymore, nobody
remembers the true color of black and brown
people, but nappy hair and flat noses give us away.
she tells me how lovely it is that i wear my old
foundation color, now four shades too dark. no,
this is not in homage to my former self.
all of us are lost, but still i rest my body, pray
for my future self and mourn the past, ‘cause
my spirits say the night is just beginning.
my nana's curses
course through my veins
the way lead-filled faucet water dances through
yesterday’s pipes, with a sway in her hips
as if today’s the day Liberation will come for us,
banging on this front door gilded in plastic
with the strength of a thousand shooters.
her patience runs laps around my will, waiting
for us to boogie on down to a new life, but only if
we let this tainted red pour from our bodies,
soak in the marsh and poison their river
‘cause there’s no room on this trip for those
the devil touched.
Kiian Dawn is a storyteller born and raised in Jersey, based in Philly. Their work focuses on unpacking the present and imagining a free future through ancestral wisdom, communal relationships, and an anti-colonial framework. They received bachelor’s degrees in Africana Studies and Journalism from Rutgers University, but credit most of their education to the many Black women who raised them.