Black. Hunting Season.

Black. Hunting Season.

You. With your pants sagging


Lower than our hope in any American dream


I love you.


You. With your loud ratchet self. Neck twisting and turning like the Nile


Mouth smacking. Hands clapping.


With. Ev. ery. Word.


I love you.


You with your skin so obscenely and unapologetically Black


Like the mysterious power of night


Black that blinds


Boogey man Black


I love you.


You. With your skittles


And whatever is left of your spine


With your hands up


With your toy gun


You. With no arms.


Because they are cuffed behind your back.


And no arms.


Because the threat of you lived only in their minds.


You. With no breath.


Because it has been stolen from your lungs.


You. With your ghetto. violent. unruly. thuggish. Self.


I love you.

-Jamila J. Lyiscott

  • 30 Apr, 2015
  • Posted by Jamila Lyiscott
  • 1 Tags