You…in the Margins

You…in the Margins

You wanted to write a lie—
to be understood?

to fit in?
to be heard?

My powdery snow covered skin
pleads, “STOP.”

For too long, my people live at the top
of the mountain crested in packed white linen
—we have kept many persons at base camp
—countless tribes at the foot of the towering peaks.

An avalanche brought me down
—tumbling, rolling over & over.

I could share my wounds
—beyond physical

but, I do not have to
—for you bandaged
my brokenness with the balm
of your soft brown skin
rubbing itself against mine.

Looking into your eyes,
I see the sun radiating its warmth
through your dark glass pupils.

Your hymns sing to my Soul
in perfect pitch…
—raindrops joining a river adding to the flow
—dew drops draping green leaves.

The door of my heart unlocks.

Your hand in mine…my MIND silent.

I feel your breath
—the warmth of your lips
kiss my brow.

There is no longer room for lies.


Inspired by Kiese Laymon’s Novel Long Division

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