Skin Lights

The street lights wink at me their dim glow barely illuminates my silhouette my faulty being my black skindedness i used to think i was fluidity i swallowed the sun and her light would not pierce through these layers my head now burried in the sand ashamed of my attire i couldn’t undress my self anymore my nakedness reminded me of the sun on my ancestors backs as they picked white balls, pure like snow their gazes were cuts, constantly staring i did not know how to not be the Gods cast me out of their wombs i was their dirty little secret a scab, mould, something different my skin lights don’t glow like theirs and i’m okay with this. i made a necklace using the moon it reminds me of pearly things. makes my skin pretty