where is your name, slave girl?

you’ve gone missing

taken from your family

not remembered enough to even have a name

purchased, war bounty from a raid

attentive to your mistress

who didn’t have a name either,

wife of Naaman;

through compassion you became blessing, slave girl

a remnant of the colored cloak of another slave, your ancestor

and you, slave girl with the missing name,

a liberator for the one with the name, Naaman;

what milk carton bears your image, your name?

what mother searched for you?

what was the smell of the pillow your father carried daily because you had last slept on it?

where is the dust that still carries your name, your bone, your marrow?

where is the book that your name is written so I can read it, slave girl, instead of this one marked Kings?

I want the book named Slave Girl

I want the book with your name gone missing