It is here beneath on the underbellies of toes --
you don’t see it, do you? Let me
pull my sock down, past this ash brown,
ain’t no harm in lookin’.
Touch the soft skin, that be mine,
the vanilla smell -- that be mine too.
I be turnin’ white.
You always start at the bottom, my mama says.
I be workin’ my way up.
You with your pale thoughts and toes
stuck in them shoes.
You don’t know the first thing about color.
It be risin’ up my leg,
warm and sweet.
I can feel it now,
growin’ up inside, takin’ over;
soon I be whiter than you.
Say, don't be lookin’ at me that way.
I ain’t meanin’ no harm.
Me, well -- I be sharin’ all.
You and me, we be sisters.
We be sisters, don't you see.
Soon we’ll be walkin’ down this street,
me in my magic of colors
and you in that red dress
and ain’t no fool goin’ to be able
to tell us apart.