Short Meditation on My Black Body - 8/29/2015

When I sit and contemplate my body, my station, my place on this earth, and I take time to feel myself here, to feel the chair push against my dignity, my shoulders defiantly rolled back, my back straight and desperate, my chest high and naïve, I appreciate how my body is—that my body is at all—, for in America to be black means that your body could be snatched off the Earth and no justice will find it.