My Parents Tell Me to Stop Writing Race Poems

And I flinch

And I protest

And I throw my mouth

Hard against the wall

Follow the way my rage has led me

Know that I am angry

And allowed to be

And anger is all that I am allowed

March until our kitchen floor sinks to dirt

Wonder what held my hands together

Before all this hot

Wonder what stood in my shoes

Without an enemy

It was:

        A swarm of bees held together by my skin

        A mirror

        A fairy

A girl climbing from the ocean

A day spent on adornment

A beautiful body

A curiosity

A frustration

A shell

Lindsay Young

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