I will miss you…
Me, too
I mean I will miss you too
People will miss me
and my painted face
What of what we did?
What of our attempts?
I can now be free of sad…
I can now be free of resignation!
blood continues to pool on the street
I didn’t know I would make such a red mess
well, the redness is the least of it
the red pool grows bigger still
a passerby steps on one hand
that didn’t hurt!
pretty inconsiderate of him, tho…
I had so much left to do…
Me too, more painting,
my dancing, my art…
The bodies are now shells
washed up on the concrete shore
again, the boulevard of difficulty prevails
their twoness becomes nothingness
differences flattened by a nine millimeter
future loving accomplishment erased too.
Death defines racism
however, even so,
race does not contain who these Men were.
The smell of blood is in the air
that odor of death is everywhere
tears for the Men join the red pool
tears for the murdered, falling, make it bigger still.
I’m gone now. I’ve gone to the wind.
