Spinning chairs / dry air / caressing dark skin
Children squeal / as they’re lifted / high / into a starless night /
An amusement park / earning its name
He’s skinny
Black boy / with his Fresh Prince fade / pastel shorts / nike slides
He rides behind his little sister
Brown Skin Girl / wearing loud barrettes / that clang / as she cranes her neck
Look how high we are
He yelled / and I can tell / no headlines / have tethered his flight
No fear / of broken tail lights / to anchor him
Niah go no hands
And though I was certain / his voice / got lost in the wind
She smiled and raised them /
/ He smiled and raised them
And I prayed
That the next time /
his world is / spinning /
and his hands / are up /
nobody shoots
Children squeal / as they’re lifted / high / into a starless night /
An amusement park / earning its name
He’s skinny
Black boy / with his Fresh Prince fade / pastel shorts / nike slides
He rides behind his little sister
Brown Skin Girl / wearing loud barrettes / that clang / as she cranes her neck
Look how high we are
He yelled / and I can tell / no headlines / have tethered his flight
No fear / of broken tail lights / to anchor him
Niah go no hands
And though I was certain / his voice / got lost in the wind
She smiled and raised them /
/ He smiled and raised them
And I prayed
That the next time /
his world is / spinning /
and his hands / are up /
nobody shoots
Lauren Saxon is a 22 year old poet and mechanical engineer from Cincinnati, Ohio. She attends Vanderbilt University and relies on poetry when elections, church shootings, and police brutality leave her speechless. Lauren's work is featured or forthcoming in Flypaper Magazine, Rhythm & Bones Lit, Glass: A Journal of Poetry, Nimrod International Journal and more. She is on poetry staff at Gigantic Sequins, and spends way too much time on twitter (@Lsax_235).