Hey, let’s be friends but please don’t call me lady, girl, gurl, Ma’am, Madame, or Mrs.
I weigh out my options on how I will respond each time I hear those words.
Sometimes I use them too
to fit into the (cis)terhood. I too long to be in Black woman spaces –
but they can be alienating for folks like me.
I bury my discomfort; I keep my mouth shut
so I can prevent losing another friend.
I risk verbal or physical assault by ‘loved ones’ and strangers
by asserting myself.
I cry from queer loneliness.
I need Black friends who live close to me.
Black friends who are emotionally intelligent & available,
vulnerable, self aware, kind, gentle,
bisexual, and androgyne accepting.
Embrace my fullness.
I giggle – amazed when I meet face to face with another Black person who can say:
“Wanna hang out? I’d love to get to know you better” and actually follows through.
One part of me holds the sadness of grief for the years living in this Black lack,
another part, draws a circle around this joy
for the moment of platonic Black love
is finally here.
© 2017 Fey
*Image of ebony wood, “Ebony is a hardwood that has been logged so heavily it’s now critically endangered.”