The Forgotten

March 26, 2018 Xan Thomas 0 Comments

with help from May Swenson’s “Yes, The Mystery”

                                         Her eyes are dark and glittering
                                         like unrefined diamonds
                                         raped from the Sierra Leone dirt
                                         She is fortunate enough
                                         that her soft brown hands will never dig
                                         through that earth
                                         Fortunate enough
                                         that the blanket I swaddled her in has
                                         a tag that reads MADE IN CHINA
                                         Fortunate enough
                                         her wisps of hair won’t curl with sweat
                                         from the heat of a factory
How do they decide, my love
In this mystery of life
who reaps and who sows
                                         Grasping my finger,
                                         she smiles at the diamond ring
The horrid mystery of it