Dear Black Lives Matter,
You are better than me, and you make me better. That’s what love is. You fall against your will. You are the soil and the soul, the grail and the ground. Everything essential thrives in the dark. You plant the peace flag black, night waving on night. I fall for you hard as falling asleep. Words are easy; doves are white, unfettered. You make a fine ink, drawing me out of dreams. Love is a wake. Love is a war I will lose, so I dig. I dig new graves for my ancestors who need burying. I dig new graves for myselves who need burying. I bury the rest like a seed, aligned to your light. Rising up with you. I do.
Yours,
Erin
Erin Langley, Rabble’s Poetry Editor, is an artist, writer, mother, and acupuncturist, from the rural south, now living and loving in Oakland, CA.
Send one poem or short prose piece, to rabble.editor@yahoo.com, with the heading RADICAL ROMANCE: [your title]. We can’t wait to read your submissions!
Header Image: Creative Commons, Public Domain, modified.
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