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return |
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by Dionne Brand |
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II |
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From here you can see Venezuela, |
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that is not Venezuela, girl, that is
Pointe Galeote |
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right round the corner, is not away |
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over that sea swelling like a big belly
woman |
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5 |
that must have been a look of envy |
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every eye looking out of its black face
many years |
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ago must have longed to dive into the
sea woman’s |
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belly swimming to away only to find |
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Pointe Galeote’s nubbly face |
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10 |
back to there and no further than the
heat flush |
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every woman must have whispered |
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in her child’s ear, away! far from here! |
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people go mad here walking into the sea! |
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the air sick, sibylline, away! go away! |
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15 |
crashing and returning against Pointe
Galeote |
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From here envied tails of water swing
out |
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and back playing sometimeish historian |
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covering hieroglyphs and naming fearsome
artifacts, |
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That is not footsteps, girl, is duenne! |
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20 |
is not shell, is shackle! |
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