I am the black man
And I love my skin
And the life within the body.
And yet I am the white man,
Pale as the purity of snow.
And still I am Asian.
And so too am I mixed,
With all the races blood
In lattices twisted up in the
Ages DNA, conjuring diversity,
Bringing beauty and ugliness
Time and time again.
But I too am a woman
For there is joy in that form,
As there is joy within the masculine.
And the body of a child is mine.
And sometimes I am sexless,
Indefinably between
The boarders of mapmakers
And nationality.
And I am every class and cast
There ever was.
All this I have in me.
And as I am,
So too is other,
Not one
With jurisdiction
Over emotion, attribute or worth.
Not one less than
And not one more than.
All of us
Looking upon the world
From the same different place,
Infinitely capable
And with equal potential
To be all things.
