Life in color


What am I.

People are attracted by what is different – about

what is exotic.

what is exotic?

I’m off white

not white

not black

Black is an undefined barrel of forgotten heritage…

replaced with a history of oppression.

A history you can not forget. American history.

They wouldn’t let you.

You are an example of how humans can go wrong.

The spotlight for every slight- against the other.


I can’t even be an other.

What I cling to is fleeting.

Clutching onto “America”

The America of money of education of privilege.

You can reach but not grasp

instead you may lose another part.

You are both sides, both

both sides are melting, a melting pot of ill-defined pieces.

What can I do. I am a race of the race-less.

“African American”, what part of Africa? I can tell you what part of America my parents  hail from. But where, where in the “country” of Africa do you come from. What are you? What am I? Brown? Not quite brown.

Color has a history of a country to call home…

Color has a fleeting a connection to a continent weakened by the horrors of history.

Striated shades of Black, of pigment drawn to different origins.

What color of black am I? -Don’t answer.

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