Inside rooms where spirit is tethered to time Lie incubators — warm and full of gab, frisk with Glimmer and giddy — defiant souls of lesser green grass Naive whetted scalpels and abandoned bellies Naive to Caesarean sutures, iron-bounded one too few Naive of dread towards strange fruit and hooded men — white She stands tall in the wilderness of trees born steel and nitrile stockings Majestic like high-jumping gazelles, where no heights are Greater than post-partum hypertension or gestational diabetes Her father tells her that she is Brown Sugar in a white coat And that her smile creates Rainbows out of raindrops sphering over horizons obscured Epidurals pierce through spine colored with Melanin and scar tissue left by ancestral lashes Nourishment — discovered amongst the juxtaposition of her mother’s tears and prayers Outgrowths of bantu knots and unwavering resolve Reveal that she is standing on the precipice of her own presence Giving birth to a new era of woman