In the twisted far-reaching media archives, they’ve glassed us up and our blackness in.
Our blackness is the whole thing the whirling and worrying on water.
Our flesh lights up the world, our fighting flesh. And yet here,
we’re subdued to meat, our humungous hearts trophies.
Every whiteman has stood on our backs. Every child has suckled on our breasts.
Our mighty arms wrapped everyone together are lead to extinction in this glass tomb.
In the dark, our magnitude is masked, our monumental strengths forbidden.