The Color of Water

some 60 years ago

(oh, how indelible

this memory!)

when perplexed by

children asking my race

my father said “tell them

it’s none of your business” &

my mother “tell them human”

in the quiet of this still

autumn morning these

ideas finally blossomed

an existential crisis allayed

closure followed by an opening...

fingers tapping this keyboard

words coloring this screen

this screen a mirror to my soul

and me, this mix of memories,

sensations, synaptic processes

geared toward survival, pleasure,

joy, a jouissance that reaches its

full embodiment in non-identity

a fluid yet unshakeable certainty

that all is as it should be

and that my skin color will lose

all relevance

soon enough