so
young so interrupted at a zillion thoughts; so uncursed flourishing into darkness
while key tenets are formulating; this masked mahogany daymare those deadly
doctrines while repeating us might come in fragments; for ostracism is living
it breathes as a proposition where forgiveness is up for purchase; such cryptic
midnights so dearly eclipsed while I ponder your reality; those few we meet
such devastating convo while a man squirms over wisdom; but a Swan by
burgundy those sneezing headlights at cultic sciences; to dream in jasper to envelope
in porcelain while tugged by identity; this small master for unidentified souls
nor looking into you nor realizing the significance of a core self; it comes by
this fact and this fact alone in my identity I deny my family; but this is untrue
in this fire we consume where by knowing myself I am empowered to love others
from a grounded location; this sweet melon this sugar-sap or this high oaken
nightmare; where age does not signify wholeness and some have wrestled with
this over sixty years; to adore you I must ignore my roots and by learning my roots
I have made you insecure; it kills in this situation, those sour-plums this
agony in purple or this daughter needing a second orientation; as not to cause
a rift but more to understand your complexion and more to realize this struggle
in humankind; it shouldn’t require negligence to maintain love and one shouldn’t
feel oddness to fit by comforts; but ours is delicate this hybrid reality where
we don’t quite find full acceptance; (of course with family, at least we hope, especially,
in such a diversified group); but what about society those jealousies or those
sly remarks concerning pigmentation; it becomes a deeper secret, Love, this
wealth and riches, embodied by rooted self-identity—as never merely a color but
more a humanist in a world that proves hostile at developing moments; in
trenches and dug deeply as one surrounded by hostilities; or rooted in
alienation while too sensitive to battle where identity appears as something
irrelevant—until it hurts! I would never ask for a pitfall this diamond
some sell where one is so cultural no one can stand them; in addition, I would
never suggest isolating from one or the other in an attempt to please total
strangers; but it’s cultic those dice this war thrown to humankind where we
must, as hybrid children, learn the essence of each one; this richer sensation
this core relatedness as sensitive creatures designated for a radical
experience; to teach the mestiza to pride the one in mirrors and to
cherish the one given birth; such par excellence in a given society
while ignorance is committed to not seeing: those rainbow skies those hybrid
butterflies or all those marvelous patterns; to receive a feeling to encompass
love while realizing the beauty of being a mixed child; this world so affected
by beauty, to have this frequency, and to dance with wings spread abroad.
I sound
like a cliché in supporting our strong minds at something like fire to get in;
our intuition tells us about love our inclinations point towards acceptance and
our core being is struggling with spirituality verses our daily reminders.
but I usher you to begin now to get understanding in accordance with
reality and to harness as best as possible your identity; for something human
has become yogic and something like displacement haunts souls but more with so
much love you are enabled to fly; so, codify your formula while erasing
stereotypes and realize there is something in you desiring both attention and
affection; this rare-difficult creature, those grapes with peaches, plus, this
incredible sibling following those private feelings you harbor; again, leave
color to analyses, be rich in all realms, and focus more upon humanism; for our
condition becomes this felt suffering in a land that has abandoned itself;
where reality becomes fabrication and love becomes dependent while a few by
divinity are meditated into peace; to love and cherish, to celebrate diversity,
these capillaries become our arteries.
