Conversation Between MOTHER and the manchild.

Confessions of an Urban Shaman

She was weaving clouds.

One foot lazing in an ocean of stars..

“Son, this world owes you nothing.”

Her skin a pattern of melanin infused light.


“Back when you called yourselves kings, We kept thine enemies away.”

Wisps of light fed off the milk seeping from their ample breast.

“Even then you were unsure. Yet you swung your cocks about and beat your shields….”

Trails away to whisper words at the GREAT LOOM back drop in the sky.

“Mother, beg pardon! They are killing me in droves! The world sees us murdered live. The leaders do nothing! I have no time for niceties and memory walks! You must help us!”

The MOTHER smiles.

“Son, you have helped yourself to so much, from the day I showed you fire. You have always taken. Even when you were justifiably a victim your value was placed above mine. And you allowed it…

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