Love in the Time of Ferguson

his corkscrew curls glisten with sweat and adhere him

to my chest

the beating of my heart plays a lullaby only he can hear

and i run my fingers absently

through his hair.

his tiny bottom lip pokes out

his breath is no more than a whisper

i press my lips to his forehead

and hold him as he sleeps

i envelope him in love

and wish it were a tangible thing

to cloak him

like armor

to protect him from a world i didn’t predict.

did someone swap our staircase

for a treadmill when we weren’t looking?

am i standing in place

still standing in a space

where i have babies

but someone else decides if i can keep them?

sometimes it feels selfish

to offer up these children

to a world full of preconceived notions

that have nothing to do with

the lives they have touched


the sharpness of their minds

or even

the contents of their hearts

but in a world ripe with hate

having these brown babies is an act of revolution

and raising them takes


and strength

i love my boy fiercely

in defiance of the fear that i feel

and silently send his sleeping mind

dreams of a bright future

that i dare to have faith in.


NaPoWriMo Poems 1-10