In my youth it was hidden

the color of my hands

the sun on my blonde hair

the glisten of my green eyes

and the accompanying announcment to society

of an all american girl

who had everything she wanted

plauged my youth with




I was the favorite grandchild of my Cuban grandmothers'

reminders of my appearance in the form of

christmas presents, extra servings, photograph 

after photograph


I am seventeen now

I am working at the hottest clothing store for teen girls

The one where the labels read 

One size fits all

I am standing at the front of the dressing rooms


There is a thirteen year old girl


to her mother 


the shorts do not fit her


And as I stand there

listening to her cry

because she does not look like me

I cry too

And wish I could do something


To change it

This poem is about: 
Our world


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