they told you you were too dark to be beautiful.
your voice was too strong and you should be more quiet.
as if your whole existence has not existed on
pain and half truths.
i hope you sang today.
about where you’ve been.
about what beautiful things still await.
your tired arms.
your family secrets that sting your tongue on the way out.
about your hair that rises up to tickle the skies foot soles.
your sprouting roots that sing songs in a forgotten mother tongue.
you are your ancestors dream deferred.
keep your songs. they are sacred.