June 12, 2017

Unintentional Rainbows

Miguel M. Morales

Ever since I woke up / this morning, I've been seeing / unintentional rainbows.

The seats on the bus with / curving multicolored lines in the fabric/ reveal
a cascading array of rainbow figures / endlessly jumping and dancing through sunlight.

In the library / art students file past / my desk moving toward / a table in the back. They
spread out / colored pencils. Sharp tips / reproduce deconstructed rainbows on sketchpads.

A small black girl in the grocery store / her hair separated with vibrant / elastic hairbands,
pulls her mother / to the display of fruits and berries / a kaleidoscope of colors.

Sitting in the kitchen listening / to a report marking one year since / the Pulse shooting,
I finally let my tears flow / as a luminous sunset gifts me / another rainbow.

Don’t Call It an Anniversary

Miguel M. Morales

Anniversaries celebrate our best moments
like weddings and first dates.
They recall our special connections from 
first kiss to the day we met our best friend.

There will be no anniversary toasts to the 
discriminate massacre of 49 people. 
No specially compiled playlist or 
dancing for the injuries of 53 more. 

There will be no surprise parties 
for grieving families and friends.
No dinners will celebrate the sustained 
pulsing pain of brown and black queers.

We will sign no cards with images of cakes 
on the cover and scripted writing inside
nor will we exchange wrapped gifts 
while searching for the nearest exit.

Anniversaries celebrate our best moments. 
Many followed in the aftermath. 
We will applaud and embrace them
in the days and months to come.

But for today, just for today, 
don’t call it an anniversary.