Put it in your coffee
Do not add sugar
Do not add cream
Though you never do what I say
Stir them with potpourri
It probably won’t take
The transplant of a vestigial organ
When you’re a white woman
From a young dead black man
Pierced through the lung
By his brothers under the sun
Staying fit through a brisk jog along the sidewalks
To outrun these types of things
But fallen
Onto the pavement
Onto the stretcher
Onto the operating table
We deshelve him of his organs
His gracious charity
I, wielding the blade
I did not take his life
But I will remove his soul
And place it in to you, white woman
Raised by racists
Brought about by hatred for his kind
Though I will refrain from sharing with those racists his undying kindness
Because he deserves better
Because he wouldn’t think twice of their sickness
Because if the option to live on through another presents itself
Why not applaud?


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