What we are attempting is dangerous:Building a bridge.Forging a bond.Helping one another.Let no one sway us otherwise.We must keep on loving each otherthrough the killings.It is not a singing circle of protest,nor an embrace of mourningor celebration I speak of.We are not simply summoningancestral powers,nor casting spellsto cure our troubles.This is not a circle jerkof gorgeous, frightened men.We do not come togetherto entertain you—we’ve done enough of that,and still, we’re disrespected,our brilliance all but deniedand sabotaged.This is not a circleformed for reflection:Mirror mirror on the wallHow long does it takeTo grow blonde, Nordic and tall?That is not my questionnot at all,not at all.Someone, gently, rock a Black man.Comfort him. Someone pleaseplease be brave enoughto hold him back from extinction.Hold his handsagainst self-destruction.Tell him he is beautiful.Tell him you love him.What if all Black menacross varied differencesagreed to pray in unisonfor the American Bald Eaglesto drop dead,so we can claim priorityas an “Endangered Species.”And if the bald eaglesdid drop dead,think of what we mightpray for next,whatkind of meditationon historyit would be,what angels would descendin haste to doour specific bidding;think of what we might pray forin unison, Black men,and never stop.We must keep on loving each otherthrough the killings,the secret meetings,the skin-bleaching commercials,the charts and graphswe cannot see.The National Rifle Associationlobbies for our deaths.Remember this, when they contributeto the campaigns of our elected officials.Remember this, when public hospitalscannot care for the wounded and critical,and they shut their doorsand lock themin the middle of a war zonewe once called home.