Steam pours from thin shoulders
Dimly lit, white tile reflecting moonlight
Beams hit my skin
Slowly, ever so gentle,
Revealing to me a world both unknown
and a truth that scalds
More than my outer shell, my tinted coating
Is it brown? Is it tan? White?
Can I even say with confidence its hue?
Under a desk lamp it is yellow
Beneath a tree I am a blueish brown
Within the walls of a clinic I am a stark, pale white
Please tell me what color I am!
I am told to write what color my skin is
On resumes, transcripts, sign up sheets
Scholarships, ID cards, online profiles,
But within the confines of my mind
The uncertainty of a fragile heart, I-
The steam is cooling now
And the moon reflects condensed water drops
Translucent bulbs which reflect my very hue
What I see is not my eyes, filled with desperation
Nor my lip which quivers and contours with the grip of a tooth
But the shape of a man
With a certain color
That even 20/20 vision
Cannot confirm for my psyche
That of a child who knows not their true hue.