Summoned by the call of the wild
young Brown girl many secrets
mystique trapped within hazel jewels
wagging tongues silently assault
the new peaks below her chin
the hill below her tailbone has eyes, but not its own
they devour her without even tasting
feasting grounds for the soul thieves
in the darkness of broad daylight
the wild calls out to her
Wolves in white tees and shape-ups
Fresh scents and lavish whips
Pockets full of indo, dead presidents unearned
she is touched by cold hands of cold cases
they feign respite at the roots of the family tree
masquerading as kin yet they salivate
without contrition
over the deliciousness of her innocence
young Brown girl so many secrets
new ones gained as restitution
supple flesh annihilated, spirit on hiatus
her special extracted
replaced by a complex of deep complexes
scraps left behind
by the Wolves

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