Lesser

Original Author
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Original Body

A statement on white privilege

by Lola Bean

The Whites of your eyes

Can’t find my light

See my shape right

Unless your lids are locked tight

Or your eyes are cast down.

The curves of your ears

Deflect words

Left unheard

Without tone

Unless my lips make your sounds

The wind in your throat

Blast sirens over notes

Lost songs to the monotone

To drone out my wide mouth

And the pain and the love that&actures pouring out

And you cover yourself in your skin

Hide the motion and electricity

With thin tint

Believing it is

Where you stop and where I begin

Stop

My Eyes See just fine

I find light through your lines

Sense the motion behind

And see yours as what&acutes mine

My ears hold

Vibration from your soul

Shake words free

Lets loose tone

And then fills me

With you

Whole

My throat cuts notes

Makes waves out of air

Beats drums in your ear

Fixes your stare

And reveals what you fear

And my Skin

Created When

You meet me

A living process where light meets being

And I can feel you

To know your meaning

In this moment we create each other

You sense my eyes

Locate your light

Pull out that dim spark

You&acuteve spent lifetimes trying to hide

And your muscles grow hot

And your breathing slows deep

And you swell with my words

Spoken with intimacy

And so I reach through your hot soft shell

And into your soul sleepy and scared

And seek longingly for your connection

For passion and revelation

And you fear what you feel

And accuse me of obscenity

Say my eyes blindsided

Everything that you claimed to be

And you knock out my shine

Just to teach me a lesson

To you I&acutem not human

I&acutem just something lesser.

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