Untouchable

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.