Skin

I am not without tension that is inescapably melted in melanin given

by a too a familiar story of fathers not present for inventory;

Though Ma did hand the picture of black Jesus on the wall,

I grew up in a shade darker, without cover...

and shed layers of abandon in my skin.

Honest

I didn’t notice the difference until classmates hinted

in a state of no minority where I publicly scraped through the 5th grade;

Ashy knees, oily face, charcoal elbows and eyes tinted Asian...

Frizzy curls that no Barbie brush could touch...

No shade of foundation to math the tone of fitting in...

Too light for the dark, too dark for the light...

And I learn illumination from within in my skin.

In what felt like ages of living my teens,

I cursed over my curves that matched pearl inlayed guitars playing inherited blues;

The rhythm only upholding the melodies beating that I have to choose...

And victim is not the undertone in my skin.

Fast forward to tender twenties

Beach backdrops where red is the least of my worries;

and new appreciation for “half Black/half Japanese”

unwinds tight rusted coils in my mind...

Let’s down untamed waves on my bronzed crown...

Owning, not owing what is mine...

and I receive birthright in my skin.

Now

Surrounded in woods that historically produced chocatle bitter

I lock eyes wth a rooted giver...

Lend an arm to a faithful feather...

Set plates for coupled blue, joy lit eyes...

There was never need for compromise.

I stand on soil where ancestors anticipated my demise...

and yet here I am...in my skin.