Flower Beds, Keds, And Ledges

We ran like a river flowing through every passage that would carry our feet, body, and minds. Through flower beds. Perched on ledges. Arriving in the side parking lots and deepest crevices of the Smithsonian. As soon as we would find an open space, it soon would fill in behind us. I thought if we can only get to higher ground, then we might manage a vantage point. A glimpse of a screen . An earshot of a speaker in a vast sea of pink. We were surrounded, but there was a peace among us. The men supported us the white women acknowledged Black Lives Matter, without what seems to be a perfunctory All Lives Matter. 

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