say their names.
nigel.
tyrell.
blake.
jamel.
i wonder if they know
that they prepared us to be fighters
that their sticks and their stones
taught us to dare fight the fire.
i wonder if they know
that we turn broken glass to glitter
that every wave to crash our boat
teaches us how to master rivers.
if they ever learned how we survive
freedom would finally stand a rare chance
‘cause they’d see the magic that we design
from the soil tilled with our bare hands.
if they ever learned how we stay alive
they might just let go of a little power
‘cause they’d see how it feeds our might
our talent to turn years out of a few hours.
see, beyonce finds solace
by singing “heaven couldn’t wait for you”
but heaven can wait just a damn minute
when we’ve been patient with days so cruel.
‘cause nigel was 15
and tyrell was only 20
when they decided their time here was over
they’ve suffered enough and they’ve suffered plenty.
and blake was 18
and jamel was only 9
when waking again just ached like hell
and sleeping forever maybe was fine.
don’t you know the world chews us up
and then the world spits us out
the world’s vernacular comes from our ancestors
but you won’t ever credit their style.
don’t you know we make magic from madness
that we name all of the colors
the world takes after the fashion
of our royal queer and trans mothers.
we are the holy descendants
we have the armor of brown skin
we are the angels with no heaven
we are the angels with no wings.
say their names.
nigel.
tyrell.
blake.
jamel.