Wind laden with love and pain
Breathing should be an inalienable right to all; it—breath—should not be pleaded for, nor withheld as a means to demonstrate power over another.
Soul, a screaming pond.
Struggling for a way out,
—How am I not George
Everyday I wake up with a tinge of fear that it may be my last simply because my skin remembers the long history of insensibility—it, my skin, has been an excusable causality for unjustified violence…
love does not weaken, confuse, misconstrue; but in our desires we blind ourselves to these truths.
gripped by the emptiness
of a glass half full
we spent the year trumped
dealt a hand claimed to be rigged
now must move as one
spewed hatred and deceit walls
built with poisonous bricks—words
been away searching
speaking to shadows born
of light with no eyes
Beneath raging seas
Beneath trees in the wind dance
Is a calm body
I taught her to give birth
and her me to be a man—
enough to love her
mothers give birth to men
who will give them love or grief…
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