When She Asks What I Am Afraid Of

I tell her that my fear
is that, some day, while we are caught

in the raw, stout emotion of an argument, the word nigger
will be a bronzed bullet fired from her mouth,

cast at me for no other reason than
to leave me completely gutted before her.

When she asks if I truly believe
she would ever be capable of such a thing,

could ever wish to hurt me so much
that she would say that ugly, heavy word,

I pause for a moment, then peer into the dark brooks
of her eyes & lie when I tell her no.