poem for my white transgender twelve year old son, thinking of twelve year old Tamir Rice shot by police while playing
so much topples around us: businesses schools the police state (maybe) this morning i’m noticing the birds sing (they still do!) i am celebrating quietly that you chose to live because honestly that is the most revolutionary thing i have seen in a long while: you breathing softly in your blankets as the sun inches up in a world that at best calls you names and at worst (maybe just average) steals that breath you are my revolutionary hope my prayer my promise that the police state WILL topple and all the sweet 12 year old boys will breathe easy in their beds that 12 year old Black boys will not be deemed threats and that you will always remember what it feels like to be treated as a menace and defend your brothers against your own skin privilege when necessary (because it will be necessary) i pray for the day all parents can stand over messy twin beds grateful their child sleeps safe and not have to qualify like i do: for the moment and not have to fear the birdsong and the glorious riot of morning
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