‘It hurt. It hurt like hell. But it didn’t matter, if no one knew.’

Nella Larsen, Passing

 

There is no answer for a broken heart, she said.

Now I can’t forget the way she held her head up high.

She was always kind, my Mama, dignified.

There’s nothing as potent as regret, I said, out loud,

Though she’s gone to the big upland in the sky,

And the band is playing jazz, I hope, playing it loud.

If ever you pass me in the street, pass me by, I said.

I was too busy being somebody else, telling lies,

Too full of shame of kindred, blood and line.

I should’ve shut my mouth, not averted my eye.

How I wish she could un-die, my kith, my kin.

The hands of time were pearly white, you see.

If you want to blame somebody, don’t blame me!

If I loved her too much, I’m sorry, she said.