A thousand tomorrows

I buried the pain under dreams of a black caucus.

It is six feet deep in dreams of the first indigenous prime mister and African Australian billionaire.

Ooh my the euphoria of that day has me cheering so hard for black people that no one hears the screams from crowded prisons, or looks of suspicion when we enter stores or the trauma of being locked in high rises.

I don't face today any more. I look for a thousand tomorrows where my chest is loosened from the you don't belong here looks.

I face the tomorrows where I don't need to bury the pain but can let it run free as it sees me flying above its clenched fits.