race is every
where
in my world in a way
it has never been before
the exchange of money
the palm to palm and mouth to mouth
of words
rings through my mind
and body
in constant clarity
front loaded consciousness
that throws off my balance.
The lone star state divided in threes
and the coast fractured into tiny pieces
but here
how is it so
raw?
and yet scabbed over?
Is excavation always too expensive here
to risk breaking skin?
So we dismiss it from the courtroom
lest it sway our moral compass
in this vital moment
(that is, moment of life.
And before?)
not acknowledging the poles have already shifted
and what was once the south
is now center
and what was once the skin
has soaked through the fiber
and stained the core
With one breath white
and the other victim
with one breath criminal
and the next
forgotten?
Can we forgive
what is never apologized for?
Dare we forget
what we have failed to atone for?
I am broken in this place
Saying it is not mine to claim
my silence not abdication
my waiting not vain hope for peace
there is anger there
and sadness
and willingness to rise
when you tell me it is time
but the telling is mine
the you us
the when now
no longer untouchable
but slain, again and again
the dull grey of the parking lot
every parking lot
stained red
beneath flooding orange siren lights
and a hand, whether gripping a gun
or limp and lifeless
begging us
demanding we
touch and hold
mourn and mend
burden and lighten
until we claim our share of wound and will
to rend
the untouchable bond
that separates us.
