Black and blue is not the colour of a bruise
But the beautiful colour of
My race
Brown caramel and taffy is not candy to taste
But the colour of my face
And coloured is a misnomer bcuz
Brown is not painted on my skin
But as melanin all molecularly mixed in
What makes up my marvellous womanly body
Which has been violated, raped hit
And attacked by all forms of abuse
Til I got to thinking I was of no use
It was there that I claimed my
Ab-Originality in full Native Glory
All mixed in with my femininity
Sculpted it for all to see
In clay forms of Unity
Taking the violent lies of history
Transforming it to Herstory
And with my Islamic led Spirituality
I rise, I grow, I thrive, I rise
Higher than the Sun
To be in perfect Tune
With my Earthly 1 and Jupiter’s 12
Shining silver moons
Reflecting brightly for all to see
Not what, but who I BE
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