This poem was written in July for an interesting reason. I live in Arkansas, and I am mixed (black and white). Depending on where you are located at the time, this can really reflect on how people treat you. Some places are more racist than others, while some are as open minded as you could find a group of people to be. I wrote this in particular because I have experienced a lot of racism towards me, and occasionally my family, this year.
This poem was made to represent unity; the yin and yang of people. This poem was written to reassure myself that all things can and will come together, despite mine and others' situations around the world in our present predicament.
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It is dark outside.
Dark and black is the night.
And my skin.
I blend well enough on my own.
I am black too.
It is dark outside.
The dark will make illusions.
In your mind.
He does not blend well enough.
He is white.
It is dark outside.
And he stumbles over my flat cot.
I am nervous.
He is crouched down in the black.
He is white.
It is dark outside.
And he ebbs a little closer.
He is curious.
There is a black cat watching nearby.
I am black too.
It is dark outside.
And I watch as he stops before my face.
He is gentle.
There is a long buried silence.
He is white.
It is dark outside.
And he places a thumb under my left eye
He's handling glass.
Cool fingers reach to my forehead.
He is white against my black.
It is dark outside.
I place a thumb under his left eye.
It goes there.
My warm fingers reach to his forehead.
I am black against his white.
It is dark outside.
We bring both hands together in union.
He is the white in my black.
We stay like this, and do not move.
I am the black in his white.
