for the absolute love of my life...elayne. I bought us a house in Havana/Assata & the ghost of little Emmitt will be/keeping watch on our children. The republic 90 miles away slapped our lives with an embargo/the exhange of new ideas have been taxed/and still...prisoners read "soul on ice" & wonder where the revolution talk went...cuz it **** sure/abandoned our needs... Our lawn/green enuf to make democracy/a true reality will be watered by/intricate precipitations/that Lumumba rain down...reparations will grow out of our garden/slave chains hang wind chimes from our front door/and our welcome mat/will be a notebook...all who wish to enter/must write a poem/and feel good. I can smell your chicken/and macaroni baking/the sky blue & resplendent/with Malcolm's smile...while trying to grow dreads/i sit, thinking if there's an azurepoem/inside the roots of you hair where/we become one when the kids/are finally asleep. The years between us are/but an eyeblink for God/but our forever is fortified by your cooking/and our kisses after arguments. Now/our home is our home/and no savings & loan says otherwise but/we don't own the land/public property, built a swingset for the neighborhood kids/our 2nd story is an open mic/when the troops sleep...cuba revolution calls & tantric sex in Spanish...their poems speak of blood's power/and death to silence...mensah & Nzingha color skin tones in their coloring books/knowing that their mommy & daddy...if anything...will keep them safe. We empty Corona bottles/and scraps of your quesidilla recipe/the sun is coming home soon/so we, tidy up, send the pack of kids discussing Che & Mumia home/turn off the lights while miles' "Shhh...Peaceful" plays & we undress each other/and you breath on my neck/sliding me in/keeping your thighs tense/knees in the bed/and you're sitting up...rocking...rocking...rocking to end this day's azurepoem...with a proper orgasm...and sweaty afterkisses...before we do this all over again...tomorrow.