the skin I’m in

the skin I’m in does not whisper
it shouts a tan of too much time
spent running in sunshine
of too much melanin

the skin I’m in reminds me
of an ancestral past
laden with hard labor amassed
and not enough relief

the skin I’m in is thick
from sticks and stones
that never broke my bones
because the words on my skin stopped them

the skin I’m in is mine
it cannot be bought or borrowed
not today nor tomorrow
so I wear it proudly, like the cloak of honor it is

-E.E.

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