They think I am beautiful.
Blindly. Take a glimpse
with your fingertips.
Burn your heritage into me. Teach
me directly, how a cultured woman
should feel.
New lovers alway ask:
What are your ethnic roots
Simple to be beautiful with
blood boiled by lovers of distant lands
But they all speak different love languages
tonight.
Mother says
Do not forget your culture
Plant seeds for beautiful babies.
Multicultural souls.
You are blessed to have
colorful blood.
Blessed. But what good is
color if my cultures aren't
printed in black and white.
With no direction to how I
am supposed to behave, love,
How am I supposed to love
if I cannot trace
body parts to bone yard
answers. I feel like a stranger
in my own skin, sometimes.
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