Bridges Made From Bones

I see you Black woman. 

My fingers, they trace the outline of all that you have made. The labor of what you attributed to others. Their names etched into the things you built. They threw parties celebrating their success when it was you who pried open your skin. You tried to save us with your body. You removed pieces of bone and built the things in which white feet stand on and call their revolution. 

I see you my Black woman.

 We will take back your bones. We will kiss your forehead and put you back together. We will sing to you the songs only black women know. We will bind the openings of your pried skin. We will lay hands on the hurt places and heal them to scars, faint memories of sacrifice to an undeserving people. We will whisper words only black women know and hold you until you come back together. We will remove the bridges from your back that demanded be built in the name of a unity that would never allow you to be free.

~By Kjirsten Randall

Written on an empty stomach on 10/31/20