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#johntrudell #thefaithlesspath #nativepoet (at Cahuilla Mountain) https://www.instagram.com/p/CQT-SURHklK/?utm_medium=tumblr

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Too Colored
Too colored
That’s what he said
I would date you
But
Yeah
Well I really only
Date white women
And you’re like aÂ
Sista
SoÂ
Right
He might have said
I was
Too old
Too fat
Too rough
Too many kids
Too broken
Called me a bitch
Or just maybeÂ
Too much
But
Too colored
This black man
Who sat across the bedÂ
From me
Any other thing
I would have shruggedÂ
Off
Rolled down
My almost brownÂ
Skin
Shook out of myÂ
Straight likeÂ
Indian hair
HairÂ
Cuz it was
Indian hair
but
Too colored
Really?
I was bait and switch
Cuz I pass for white
On a cloudy day
And my eyes
To my mother’s great pride
Are hazel
I get it though
As he said
He just has more in common
With white people
So
It wasn’t actually my skinÂ
That was
too colored
That was passable
Something else
The tilt of my chin maybe
The way my eyesÂ
Squint up into theÂ
Sun
That hard glint
That ancestral
Anger
Too colored
The set of my shouldersÂ
Reminiscent of loads carried
Even the sway of my hips
My hands madeÂ
To husk corn
And flesh hides
Strong
unsuited for finer things
And my mouth
Of course my mouth
Wakialota
Talks a lot
Too colored
All my life
IÂ get it though
Really
That level of self hatred
You want what I always wanted
Whiteness
Even if by proxy
What my mother wanted
For me
And yours
for you
Get as close to itÂ
As you can
Don’t be
Too colored
Stay out the sun, honey
You have such pretty
Highlights
With enough peroxide
Little tinfoil packages
Pow Wow is for rez Indians
Practice your violin
Lower your voice
Stand up straight
Not too straight
Your skin is ivory
With enough foundation
Keep blending
“Mama, what tribe are we?”
“You’re Irish like your daddy.”
And so I was
But in the summers
With my cousins
I got too much sun
And nut brown
I was still
“Hey, here comes theÂ
White girl.”
They never saw
I was
Too colored
So back home
In baths of milk and baking soda
Leaching the tan
My mother tsking
I would envy
Those pale beauties
Whose skin would freckle
Proof positiveÂ
Of their purity
Porcelain dolls
Full of fragile longing
Every princess
Every heroine
“Don’t run around like a wild Indian!”
But what if I was wild?
And brown?
My mother always knew it wouldÂ
Come to this
That I wasÂ
After all
Too colored
k.d. purscell
@__Cbigdog69u #Nativepoet (at Goodyear, Arizona)
Static Shock Freestyle[Rambo Remix] (NativePoet)