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

or

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

courage

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