Is a woman of color

What you consider me

Even if I’ve never eaten

Raw Kibbeh

 

No intention of going back

Walking the land

 

In the suburbs I’ll stay

And mine a Zen garden

4-inch rake in my hand

 

She cleaned-up good

Is what I thought

Of every brunette who ever became

A blonde.

 

Is that what I’m supposed to do—

Disintegrate?

 

Is that what I’m supposed to do

You blanch and I fade

 

I rub my eyes against the darkness

Near my brain

I power-blast the dye and mask

 

I wash myself

Away.