Morning

Morning. Good morning to you my day. My today.

Today, I listen and with an open heart I read the sentences in front of me

Sentences telling me one story

Hurting the open heart, and wondering about today

Continuation of a constant battle for who we are and our color

Skin and eyes, hair and curves keep telling us how different we are

Many simply hates those facts, and close door

The sign reads “CLOSED”

But, it’s time to turn the ugly page.

Their ugly page.

Let me tell you this, today and tomorrow we’ll be here with our colors, and whittles, and cantos y bailes

In front of bodegas and corners of the ghettos

Our space can be seeing in the space

Have no doubt, and it looks beautiful, but, also feels hurt

The page about today writes songs, and actions toward spaces and corner full of us

The blacks and browns, yellows and pinks, because we are

Numbers continue to climb. Every day, and every night

Good weather and bad weather, we continue our climbing

Stepping up latters, opening the doors of cages, writing simple notes to say

We are here.

There is no place to go, or wanting to go, but here with you

In front of you, next to you, touching you, smelling you and enjoying you, because you are, I am, and we are.

One, 2, 3, 4 and like the numbers, infinite and not going anywhere

Today, another page we write together for those here who are not here

We know who they are.

The brothers, the sisters behind bars, inside cages we have created and encouraged to fill in with you and I

Let us be. Sincerely. Let us be.