December 17, 2017

Poem – In Intimacy…


In Intimacy There Is No Color

When I’m making my child, or God is
and I’m having by child
when I’m nursing my child
and I’m raising her
there is no color

When I look at my child & she looks at met
there is no color

But when I glance at her,
When I hold her hand in mine….

I notice & so does she
That we happen to be different colors

My hand is bigger
Her eyes are bigger
Our noses are the same

And when we step outside our circle,

When we meet the world

People only see the color.

Is she yours? I’ve always wanted
to have a mixed baby, mixed
babies are the prettiest babies…..

or silence

When she was 3
When she was 12
and again when she was 23, Silence.
When we enter a room where everyone
else is the same color as me

When I’m loving her, there is no color

In intimacy there is no color

Smanthie Kaye