My mother had two faces and a frying pot <br />where she cooked up her daughters <br />into girls <br />before she fixed our dinner. <br />My mother had two faces <br />and a broken pot <br />where she hid out a perfect daughter <br />who was not me <br />I am the sun and moon and forever hungry <br />for her eyes. <br /> <br />I bear two women upon my back <br />one dark and rich and hidden <br />in the ivory hungers of the other <br />mother <br />pale as a witch <br />yet steady and familiar <br />brings me bread and terror <br />in my sleep <br />her breasts are huge exciting anchors <br />in the midnight storm. <br /> <br />All this has been <br />before <br />in my mother's bed <br />time has no sense <br />I have no brothers <br />and my sisters are cruel. <br /> <br />Mother I need <br />mother I need <br />mother I need your blackness now <br />as the august earth needs rain. <br />I am <br /> <br />the sun and moon and forever hungry <br />the sharpened edge <br />where day and night shall meet <br />and not be <br />one.<br /><br />Audre Lorde<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/from-the-house-of-yemanj/
