Sorrow

After Ocean Vuong

they are not forgiven
for making Till
into a sorrow
instead of a destination
somewhere off in the distance. a boy
is not a wolf-whistle
but he is a song
carried through too much history
and i hear it. i love you. my mother
didn’t tell me that
i could be anything
i wanted to be. could
walk through the grocery store,
hold my hands
out-stretched in joy in any direction
and it not be mistook for stealing a smile
with all my sharpest teeth.
she didn’t say that i could say anything
too beautiful to bear: the sunset
is the light leaving us alone
with our lovers. didn’t say
my hands were
innocent. because she is
a good mother she
wouldn’t have
let me say get rid of the police
unions in public. i cried all
night knowing every line
i write is not enough elegy,
isn’t deep enough to be a
grave for all our family we are
still mourning. my mother
is a good mother and so when
she saw my black skin and blacker
shadow she gave me a choice. I could
live or live—I am unsure that it isn’t an
ultimatum. I am unsure that I chose living.

c.d.latin (Full Name: Christopher Latin) is a Literary Arts major at Huston-Tillotson University and is the author of poetry micro-chapbook Even Heaven Is A Lack (GhostCityPress, 2019). You can find their other poems forthcoming or appearing in The Ellis Review, The Rising Phoenix Review, and The Heavy Feather Review.