i just awoke from a dream about you–i was walking with phyllis owens and we were talking about you and grieving your passing…frivolously, i noted how good we all still look on social media–you, with all your crafted selfies, might have appreciated the moment…upon awakening i turned from my bed and my foot struck a cup of red fruit punch–the cup flipped and landed upright and the punch sprawled as fractalized chaos across the floor–bloodlike, it left my bedroom looking a bit like a crime scene…the moment called me to try to write about you–to say to the universe what i wish i could still say to you…i don’t know enough about your passing to write this poem with any finality–so i’ll stick with what i remember, and the emotions i feel…we shared two worlds: in school at deal and wilson, then dancing and performing with the dc youth ensemble…our friendship made it so much easier for me to connect with black classmates who weren’t raised with the educational and class privilege that i was born into…you meant so much to me–i will always remember my supporting you in your senior piece dancing to ‘ain’t no way,’ even though you really wanted the piece for yourself…and now there ain’t no way we will forget you–and there ain’t know way we won’t show love and support for your family…your spirit and your energy came to me in this all to early piece of the morning–i write this to honor your love, your life, and your power…iman jackson, you will always be a sister in celebration, and a beautiful black angel…iman jackson, you are deeply loved–may your spiritual power rise for eternity like a phoenix rising in her greatest power from the flames



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