My daddy killed
a white man
to protect a black man.
Did I ever really know
my daddy at all?
My heart beats
loud and hard.
My legs are too hot for covers.
I throw them off.
Mama passes by
and closes her door.
Charlie falls asleep.
But I stay awake for a
long time. My head
can’t stop spinning.
I take out my sketchbook,
straighten my torn drawing,
and by the light of the hallway,
I shade in the face of the man
standing next to my daddy.