In its wake, a dark tapestry woven with violence. 

Mouths in the hold lie open, inaudible, begging for the nothingness that is everything. 

On this ship, terror lurks. 

A violence of abstraction separates Black from man and kills him twice,

Discarding his body like dead weight into the hungry waves. 

Thrown into the ocean, carried for a moment by the sea’s merciless drag,

But sick and emaciated bodies do not float. 

Sharks, eager specters in the wake, consume the sick not yet dead. 

Yet nobody dies of old age in the ocean. 

The Black body dances between life and death. Atoms of the past

forever remain in the ocean’s depths. 

Resonating energy echoes, eternalized by the same water. 

A cycle; atoms stuck in time, bearing witness, 

With a residence lasting forever. 

In the void of anticipatory logic, the Black man rests. 

Entangled in a racial epidermal schema, 

The world recoils – and his body forgets itself. 

A vessel of endless possibility, yet forever vulnerable, 

Whose blood paints the ocean red and mixes with its cruel embrace,

Giving coherence to the superstructure eventually called home. 

Through the afterlife of slavery, we navigate a covert racial order,

Resistance emerges and survival endures, 

Both in a past that lingers in the present, in the archives of history.

In this hellish existence, we stand, beholding the echoes of time. 

We cast away the compulsion of capital and imminent death, 

Towards Freedom on a path littered with Black bodies. 

Although under siege, we envision liberation: 

a beacon of hope amidst death in the wake. 

As we behold and are beheld, we imagine waves in harmony.

In the timeless resonance, where everything is now,

The cacophony of violence transforms, 

Into a symphony of resilience, echoing through our liberated future.