Not Yet A Rainbow




First you tell me race is a social construct
to separate. Isn’t it true
everyone loves a rainless day?
Wouldn’t a raceless day be wonderful?
But you can’t take it away
from me.
You can’t tell me I’m not a race.
That I don’t exist.
I’m not a rainbow yet.


Tell them race doesn’t exist.

Every day. Those
(secret) jokes or eyes
when I walk by.
They are angry;
They are wary and afraid!
And I’m ashamed
I am hunched over, carrying
all white crimes.
This skin defines me.


I want
to be different. I want to


slice off all my skin and burn
it till it is red and black from the fire.
With only my muscles and bones to show


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