today, i’m going to write something beautiful.

sure, i still see lynchings in my living room,

sexual abuse on the desk in my home office,

genocides in my front pocket,

and all of them are plural.

ugliness the world over rightfully demands an urgency of love, care, justice, and solidarity.

but today, i’m going to write something beautiful.

see, today, i’m going to write something beautiful

because my husband brought me a glass of water when i was thirsty,

and i’ve been so consumed by the world’s disregard

that metabolizing human kindness made me weep.

because i’ve been fighting so long

that outside of struggle, i don’t even know who i am.

so today, i’m going to write something beautiful.

my friend, today, i’m going to write something beautiful.

because today, my soul refuses to be plundered by the machinery of expropriation.

because today, my spirit is my own—not a territory for anyone’s colonial project.

because i am not just beautiful, i am ontologically beautiful to the core of my being, and today i’m going to write about myself.

yes, today, i am going to write something beautiful.

because today, the snow is compressing just right to build a snowman with my daughter.

today, the weather is just cold enough to bake my mother’s peanut butter cookies.

today, wearing my favorite sweater isn’t just comfortable; it’s energy-efficient.

today, that garage-sale cassette player is finally coming out of my trunk—and count basie, duke ellington, billie holiday, and sarah vaughan are going on the hi-fi.

today, the warriors and timberwolves are on peacock, the new star trek is on paramount+, and aj styles is on monday night raw.

today, i am allowing myself to live in the beautiful world that our struggle keeps alive, and that world deserves poetry too.

so, my beloved brother, sister, comrade in this sacred project we call solidarity, i gave today permission to be in our image. 

i told today to be unencumbered by the bosses and the gangsters and armies who serve them.

i told today to sing our songs.

i told today to cook our family recipes.

i told today to bust out our favorite board games.

i told today to hug us like our abuela, tell us stories like our abti, make the hot chocolate with the marshmallows like our manman, and read to us before bed like our baba.

and no wonder today is so, so beautiful: we are.