Recent Poetry
recent ramblings
Orange
At sunset, there is a group of Black boys playing
in the lavender fields across Black Thistle.
Their sunkissed skin attracts monarch butterflies-
everything is a deep intoxicating orange and everything is good.
And it looks like love.
The specific kind of love that unearths magic and is
untouched by any bruise, any lie, any threat.
If all Black boys could glow like this, grow like this.
Safe from the narrative they should be fearful or feared.
These boys will know sweetness.
Their lips will pucker at the tartness of apricots,
not from the blood that spills from mouths.
They will love recklessly.
Their bodies will crash into men and into women,
and not into pavement.
They will run in fields to the sound of their children’s laughter,
instead of away from bullets.
If all Black boys could glow like this, grow like this.
If all Black boys could know the color orange.
cover photo by me