Beauty*

"I like your colour,"
Said an Austrian.
He, himself,
White with black curly hair
Eyes equally black
Absorbing the rich chocolate
That covered 95% of me.

"I love your African look.
Your big earrings,
Your thick, full lips,"
Said the Antiguan.
He, himself,
Copper in shade
Watching my face
Where my ancestors lips could be found.

"You're beautiful!"
Said the Kittian.
He, himself,
Older with white hair
Speckling his black goatee,
Imagining what it would be like
To kiss my ancestor's lips.

Years have passed
With my avoiding looking.
Looking at a face
I thought was too black,
A face in which
I could never find beauty.

Beauty was white women
On the covers of magazines.
Beauty was butter skin girls
With almost straight hair.
Beauty was not,
I thought,
Me.

So one day,
I dared to look.
And I looked,
I looked at the person
The Austrian saw,
The Antiguan saw,
The Kittian saw.
The person they all saw.
Not a white woman,
Not a butter skin girl,
But a black,
Beautiful
Me.


* Lately I've been writing my random thoughts, but the true purpose of this blog is to showcase my poetry. So this is the beginning to the return to poetry.