They have tried to turn the language of your body
into ***** words, calling
your strength, grace of motion–
your poetry,
“Black Magic”.
But, Dark Art is that whitewashing illusion.
Misdirection.
Magic
is whatever color you see when you look in the mirror.
So, they slip their mirrors into your pockets,
commandeer the covers of magazines,
and big screens.
They costume in your clothing, your words, your art and artifact.
Keep you chasing shadows and slurs.
I want to say to you,
you need no one’s permission
to shatter glass,
take up space,
to outperform the top-hatted man blowing smoke from his stage.
Tell him to
Move. Over.
Unmask his ball-gowned, silent accomplices.
If publicness is not being shared,
it is being stolen.
Carry on.
Perform your magic in every spotlight.
I will stand aside,
and shout down your imposters.