Open letter to Dymel

i’ve asked too much of the sunset.
but, that wasn’t my only sin.
it started when i was six and boy
was an arbitrary thing.

time – a construct, or figment of imagination,
affected by elevation.
the top bunk paused time, is what i’m saying.
at least for me, that’s what it did.

i wouldn’t know what it did for Dymel.
he, the other one
of the setting, sun, by my lap
he now moon across

and he cosmos for me. stars got jealous,
when i laid me down to, a lucid, sleep.
i don’t know why i have this fond.
i was going just thru my compartments.

i miss that.
back when my body didn’t come with rules,
innocence was still innocence
and stuff. remember?

it was when time was real real slow
and impossible never forbade us.
ain’t no mountain was high enough.
it’s funny:

the higher we go, harder it is to truly breathe
as if we were really getting closer to heaven.
i’m close enough to taste when god gave me
Dymel and begged i repent for my identity.
i knew that night was too good to be true.
but, i remember the sunset.
although, she may not admit it,
i knew God better when i was that young.

 

 

About the Poet:
Residing in Queens, NY, Trace DePass is a student at Brooklyn College and the 2016 Teen Poet Laureate for the Borough of Queens. He received a National Gold Medal from Scholastic for his writing portfolio, “Black Boyhood,” wherein one piece was published in Scholastic’s Best Teen Writing of 2015. Trace is interested in cultivating conversations on queer black masculinity through prose, poetry, & playwriting.

 

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