Jackson Mississippi, 1964
We walk down the street.
Hand in hand.
They see us.
One black. One white.
A peasant and a ruler.
Together.
We see their feelings in colors.
Hatred, in clean crisp black.
Anger, in a pulsing red.
Uncertainty in pink
Surprise in bright neon yellow
We see their looks,
Burning
Watching
Questioning
Us.
We pass, looking to other
For confidence.
We find it.
It makes us
stronger
Powerful
Impervious
To the looks
That burn us
That question us
We are not two
We are not one
We are us.