I dreamed they came to our door and took you away at dawn. I tried, but I could not stop them; they were silent, and rough, when you struggled. Tonight, friends, let us all dream: doors open and cages broken, cool breezes and ceiling fans— we’ll argue and sing and share what we have, (we don’t need the police, we don’t need the police!)
Ninety-nine Days After the Delhi Pogrom, While America Burned,
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