An Open Letter to a Bigot
My memories are not your memories
even though we share years
It’s that way with time and place
The words you say may carry hard edges,
rhetoric honed on fabrications
We carry our skin, our background,
the place we call home, into every dialogue
and unless you honor that lens your words
may turn into the bones and spittle of hate
1 Comments:
Beautiful.
Marcia
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