Third Degree Burn

Walking down the street Marcus beheld a white man.

He was overcome with the desire to run up to him,

Look him in the eyes and ask… What does he see?

What does he see when he looks him in his dark eyes?

At his ebony skin? His nappy hair? Full lips?

 His instincts and recollection held him captive: he had a flashback

“I could see she thought I was following her, never mind my suit.

She peered over her shoulder, I was still there.

I walked with the same rhythm and purpose, acting unaffected.

The length of her stride increased, her pace gained in quickness and urgency.

I clutched my briefcase in anger. She clutched her purse in fear.

She eventually was overcome with trepidation, and sprinted into the nearest door.

I went in after her, she screamed and pleaded ‘don’t hurt me’.

I said I’m not here to hurt you, this is the Men’s restroom…”

 Marcus was fed up, his past would no longer decide his future.

So, Marcus wrote something on a piece of paper, approached the white man, looked him in his blue eyes

And asked him.

“What do you see? What do you see when you look into my dark eyes? At my ebony skin? At my nappy hair? My full lips?”

The white man had no response, he was puzzled, as though sincerely sifting through his seared mind for answers,

But his plasticity diminished ages ago.

After a moment of silence Marcus gave the man the paper, and he read it to himself.

It said:

“Remember me in deed.

Remember me in action.

Remember me by word.

View me with breadth, peer into me with depth.

Approach me with humanity.

Look upon me with estimation.

I’m a person”.

After the white man read the piece of paper they parted ways…

Marcus peered over his shoulder feeling confident about the encounter and saw the piece of paper discarded on the pavement.