You cute but are you down with the revolution?

We can get ice cream together, listen to music, and travel galaxies. Go from puppy love to full grown to all dogs go to heaven. Shell out dollars at Disneyland, tail gate at the world cup, pose in front of the eiffel, but before I fall, are you down 4 the revolution.

No, You cannot plead the fifth, not now, not here, not ever,  I need to know if you can hold your head as high as your 6 inch heels, cause if you are, you’re worth the 7 stages of grief, And I wouldn’t mind decorating 8×10 frames across every inch of our home in your honor, working 9-5’s plus overtime to keep the lights on and candles lit just to keep you warmer, and staying at 10% body fat to keep your sexually appetite full-filled. But I have to know.

Because I will travel another 40 acres and a mule to find someone who is. Do you still dig me in my dashiki? Or does my 3 button double breast the only thing that gets you leaking? If I grow locks would you oil them with the same love you brush my deep waves or would I be too afrocentric, at least if that’s what your friends say.

Do you have any hobbies that don’t involve me? You want a white picket fence?  But can you join me on the picket line to demonstrate against, matters that cannot be waived or waited for anymore, confederate flags waving as black churches burning, or do you not wanna get involved because you like living in the 60’s more?

Did they make you hate your culture and love their couture? Should I apologize for my meltdowns, keep my rants down to a minimum every time I see a man of color laying face down, explaining to us it’s not about race now? If i Kept up more with the kardashians, watched love & hip hop avidly just to reaffirm how much we allow exploitation and accept misogyny, obsessed over musical artists who have the platform to do so much but like so many leaders we needed, say so little, when it came time to they tour and i didn’t buy a ticket would you still be mad at me?

Politically speaking, Are you used to being the one that got away? Because I’m looking for the brick that the builder refused. Are you socially awkward but does the thrill of thousands of followers on social media keep you amused?  Are you well behaved? Because those kind of women seldom make history now-a-days. You aspire to be a boss bitch, a trap queen, or just anything that mainstream sets as your glass ceiling? I want you to love me like Nelson. I want you to love me like Martin. I want you to love me like Lennon. I’m just trying to free you from being a slave in your mind, you are very welcome.

Are you in this for the making of more melanin cubs? You want the ceremonious wedding with the ring with more carats that vows or are you till death do us part like our grandparents was? I’ll boycott for a woman like Coretta Scott? Wait on death row for the next Maya Angelou. Take my train of thought off the tracks for a Rosa Parks.

Cause I need to confess to you, I’m not as strong you think. My lips tremble when confronted by law enforcement, my chin drops when I see skin heads, my heart yearns for consolation when I listen to hip-hop on the radio. I don’t wanna be hunted. I don’t want to be a statistic. And I don’t want to be next. But I can’t help but feel there’s a market for nigga’s. And I’m on the selling block. Red. Black. Green. Garvey. Marley. Selassie. If you know what I mean.

What I’m looking for isn’t a shirt I pull over my head to see if it fits. You doesn’t have to be poetry in a world still learning the alphabet. I’ve old enough to learn that sex ain’t gone keep you, so as my equal I will treat you.I don’t need you to be conflicted, although I’ve been the same. So when I get on my knee, don’t say ‘you do,’ say ‘your down,’ for the revolution.

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