THE TASTE OF FAMILY BY TOHQUALITY

the taste of family

it tastes like dirge, the mourning
breaking from the mouth of a new born,
it tastes like the bitterness in the mouth of
mothers who search for dried skulls of their husbands
in a city where angels bear the weight of country men
—it tastes like absence, my father's shadow left
after him and we still search this room with torches
we run our fingers through the walls for directions,
something must lead us back home/ for the paths
that lead home is broken like heart of my lovers
—it tastes like crimson, a testimony of death
spilling like oil in the body of a country, my brother fell
and we all heard him groan, like dying for a county is
as sensual as finding home after a long stroll through his woman's body
—it tastes like my mother's body, she broke it for us like bread
and we ate like unfathered children, we ate like unfathered demons
—my mother's body is a confinement of dirges
we all sing with her eyes.

©Tohquality