I bleed red,
red like I know how.
I was there in past lives,
but never re-incarnated.
It is this existence
that bleeds me red,
red like I know how.

I’m drowning in blue,
like deceptive sea
dressed in cobalt skies.
Down,
down
I plunge,
turning eyes
with this white lie
(my life).

Days came, unlike me,
dressed in golden sun,
like oranges prepared in California’s heat.
Never am I likened to the dark nights
that parade beautiful fireflies on Lake Victoria.
I am yellow
in regions about my umbilicus,
with green glazed eyes
that scrutinize
their possessions.

I am never black;
I am white swelling in blue seas.
I should be African,
Proud,
with untamed rain bow spirit,
but I am never black.
I am white rising
in blue ocean,
a disappearing act.