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
  • 0 Comments

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