it takes what it takes
look
silent and open
as you can be open
you see i have
silent and open
faced the camera
you see i have
one hand behind my back
faced the camera
let it take
one hand behind my back
in barter
let it take
what it takes
in barter
keep your soul
it takes what it takes
if you can be open
keep your soul
look
It’s one of my father’s poses. One hand behind his back. I have seen it even in pictures of him as a little boy. When I was a kid on the playground, we would put one hand behind our backs and cross our fingers which was some kind of childhood absolution shortcut. We used it when we needed to say something other than what was true, and yet also needed to bear invisible witness to another truth. When you put your hand behind your back your chest is more open. One side of my father is vulnerable and open. On the other side he holds me in one strong arm. Look at his hand. There is no way that he will drop me. You can see that I have never even considered the possibility that I might fall.
The blue mist in the photo is not part of my mother’s design of this portrait of us on the threshold, the floral walkway into what we called “the porch” which was really the main building of my grandparent’s hotel in Anguilla. The blue mist is an accident of my digitization process, that I have decided to keep. It helps me think about the context for my fathers advice through this long-distance poem. What do we barter? How do we keep our souls when the specter of blue waits over our shoulders? How do we look? How do we witness the recurring violence and horror against our lives, against Black children, and yet protect our openness? What are the boundaries, signals and prayers that allow us not to completely shut down?
I hold you in front of my heart. Not as a shield but as a reminder. Of why I must always protect my capacity to love. As Sharon Bridgforth says on the blessing card I have chosen randomly from the deck two days in a row: “Even when you can’t See it/ Reach for Love again and again and again./ Know that your Love/ is more powerful than your rage.” Watching Ma’Khia sweetly comb her hair on tiktok takes what it takes. Wouldn’t it be easier if I knew how not to love her? If I could somehow close my heart? The ease of capital, the way it flows depends on a state that knows how not to love anyone. It teaches itself how to not love anyone by specifically hating and repeatedly sacrificing Black people. That is the story of capitalism. The lie we live each day even though we know the truth. Capitalism the long story of unlearning love. It can only work if we too forget to love each other. And we will not.
Look. Sharon Bridgforth is right. I do not have to look far to find love. I do not have to learn an algorithm to love you. It is the most natural abundant thing here, my love for you. Look. I can love you any day. That is my strength. Look. I can even do it with one hand behind my back.
P.S. My every day writing practice shapes my days into vessels for generations of love. If you want support with your own daily creative practice, I’d love to be part of your journey. Videos, poem prompts, meditations and more are here for you in the Stardust and Salt Daily Creative Practice Intensive. Click the link to learn more.