Melanin Mother

Melanin drip, dripping,
Through my veins,
Coiling it’s way through my hair, 
Reaching out to the sun.


Tiny bursts cross my face, 
Pooling in my lips.
Spreading across my shoulders, 
Making them strong.


Down, down, down my spine,
Dat ass,
Dem thighs.


Warm, golden glow,
Olive tone,
Pale eye.
Basking in her glow.


Roots.
Earth.
Strength.


The deep golden brown of her eye,
Of her skin,
Of her soul.


Drip, dripping,
Through her veins.
I, less a mirror image,
But a carbon copy...
Low on ink.


Ancient.
Complicated.
Unconditional.

Mother.

-C