black gold,
these words
from blood
burnt black
from the heat
of suffering,
ink
rested deep
in the depth of flesh
dug deep
these words
trembling
to break the surface
prove the worth
of the land,
that it is more
than dirt
placed and misplaced
by wind
prove that being
stepped on
did nothing
to lessen its worth
because the words, unhurt
were left only
with another story
to tell
these words
from the depth
of earth,
worth
the digging,
the pumping
and glad to
be emptied
because black gold
is heavy
sonya curtis-tshuma
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