Un hombre negro entra en un restaurante. Un hombre blanco dice “los hombres de color no están permitidos aquí” El hombre negro dice: cuando nací era negro; cuando tengo frío soy negro; cuando estoy enfermo soy negro; y cuando muera seré negro. Pero cuando tu naciste eras rosa, cuando tienes frío estás azul, cuando estás enfermo estás verde y cuando mueras serás púrpura… ¿Y tú tienes el valor de llamarme de color? y se fue. Reblogueá esto si estás en contra del racismo
to love life, to love it even
when you have no stomach for it
and everything you’ve held dear
crumbles like burnt paper in your hands,
your throat filled with the silt of it.
When grief sits with you, its tropical heat
thickening the air, heavy as water
more fit for gills than lungs;
when grief weights you like your own flesh
only more of it, an obesity of grief,
you think, How can a body withstand this?
Then you hold life like a face
between your palms, a plain face,
no charming smile, no violet eyes,
and you say, yes, I will take you
I will love you, again.
when you have no stomach for it
and everything you’ve held dear
crumbles like burnt paper in your hands,
your throat filled with the silt of it.
When grief sits with you, its tropical heat
thickening the air, heavy as water
more fit for gills than lungs;
when grief weights you like your own flesh
only more of it, an obesity of grief,
you think, How can a body withstand this?
Then you hold life like a face
between your palms, a plain face,
no charming smile, no violet eyes,
and you say, yes, I will take you
I will love you, again.
“
| — | Ellen Bass, The Thing Is (via thegreatfiresoflove) |
