HEAR HEAR

That it is my skin-color to blame.
Have you heard?

Does the skin fall in love?
Does it know about my father’s problems?

Does it remember when it was last caressed?
Why do they blame it’s love affair with the sun, when I get my zip opened to whoever cares?

Why do they blame the skin?
Does it have anything to do with my jealousy?

Poor skin.
Pure darkness.

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