[But, love, hate on, for now I know thy mind]

The Iowa Review - - NEWS -

“Lucy, Lucy, where you been?” Liv­ing in brown sugar sin. “Lucy, Lucy, where’s you man?” He come and taste me when he can. “Lucy, Lucy, ain’t you hitched?” No, I’m just his so good bitch. “Lucy, Lucy. Baby is you blue?” Tch. I’m tired of feel­ing black­girl used. “Lucy, Lucy, that’s no kinda life.” Black girl ain’t no kinda wife. “Lucy, Lucy, how you stand it?” It’s bet­ter than bein’ empty handed. “Lucy, Lucy, even you’s God’s flesh.” This world ain’t wanna see that yet.

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