probable root of bitter: biting, cutting, sharp

Once, she was a fierce dark girl whose tongue skipped—
top of mouth, teeth, teeth,
                                    top of mouth,
                                                       teeth—

like double dutch was a word that meant her thoughts
cutting circles through the daybore.
                                                       No chance
she’d be the one to trip and break rhythm.

Back then she could sit all day on her porch
memorizing the trees.
                                               She could be still.

The birds winged through leaves like they didn’t know
anyone could hurt them.
                       
                                                Once, she believed
steam curling off asphalt when summer rains stopped
            was a prophecy.

                                                She believed this
looked the way she would feel after touching
a man:
            her body clean
                                  and black
                                                       and right:
something beautiful and painless rising up.