I have seen it posted and re
posted. Always the same still:
officer leaning with his hands
against the roof of her car, legs
spread, head tilted to unleash
his ire into her cracked window.
I too have been bitten by the bark
of a white man’s voice. I’ve dared
someone to touch me, sworn on my life
Felt the phrase “don’t make me” hanging
over me like a punch about to land.
I cannot press play without seeing
my reflection in her rearview mirror.
Without feeling my thighs sticking
to her seat with sweat. My chest braced
by the seat belt. Hand reaching for phantom
cigarettes. Mouth parched with waiting.
Excerpt from Testify (Octopus Books, 2017).
