by Angela Tharpe
Lover T is the Whitest Boy I’ve Ever Kissed
& something about it feels precarious,
like at any moment he might see my bonnet
the care it takes to put it on, the patience
& he will understand
that he is underprepared.
Lover T owns a house.
He makes kombucha from scratch.
He’s been to twenty-five countries & he’s only twenty-five.
All of this time & I haven’t told him that I don’t like coffee or the beach.
But why are you always on vacation?
I want to ask,
And by that I mean,
Are your parents racist?
I find myself needing to know the little things like
If he went to prep school
& if so,
Did he dance with the only Black girl
At the middle school dance
& if he did—
& if he didn’t—
Lover T always pays when we go out &
He walks me to my door &
He hugs me goodnight.
We never fight, but
When we kiss, I need to know, does he forget that I’m Black or does he never forget?
Can he tell me which is worse?
Poet Angela Tharpe (she/her) is obsessed with school: she received her BA in English: Professional Writing from Baylor University, her MFA in Creative Writing: Fiction from the Iowa Writers’ Workshop, and she’s finishing up her PhD in English at Emory. Anyway, her culture blog and other work can be found at angelatharpe.com. Follow her on Instagram @angela_tharpe.
Artist Julie Thi Underhill (she/her) has published photography in positions: east asia cultures critique and Troubling Borders: An Anthology of Art and Literature by Southeast Asian Women in the Diaspora. Her black-and-white work is in the permanent holdings of the Sweeney Art Gallery, the art collection of the University of California Riverside. You can find more of her work on her website: http://jthiunderhill.com/, and follow her on Instagram @jthiunderhill.
Gulf Stream Magazine 