My Black self is a whole human being
Who wants to celebrate other Black people
Who wants to binge on Black everything
I crave Black expression.
Who wants to sit on my damn couch eating banana bread
My Whole Black husband baked.
My Black self
Took a walk this morning
Made sure I stared right into the eyes of two Black men walking in our neighborhood and shouted a robust
“Good morning!”
And what I hoped I said was “I see you!”
My Black self cried and checked on friends.
I ignored the deafening silence today from people who should have been screaming all along.
And those who proclaimed “This is how you protest.”
My Whole Black spirit wrestles with defeat when I think of Black businesses who may never open again and Black people
Who will never breathe again.
My Whole Black self will pray, make love to my Whole Black husband and fall asleep
Wake up
In a rage
And do it all over again.
Kristina Hamlett writes to connect, heal, and be a force for change. 