beholder

wild how I am created and undone

by each discerning eye—the creep

at the pet store clocks me as boricua,

sees my pidgin skin as proof of kin,

thinks this will coax a flirty response.

my stepfather is the color of midnight,

dark like the cosmos or god. he sees

me as family, regardless of the paper 

bag test and our respective results. 

when we are out together I hope 

people think I am his child, too. 

my mom and me, that one’s easy. 

the realtor says we look exactly the same 

but I’m mixed with … something 

else. sometimes I trace the slope

of my negro nose, rounded like

a drum. you can find my ancestors

in the kitchen at the back of my

scalp. nestled like knots. plaited

bloodlines unwind at my neck.

on the sidewalk, I empty 

meager offerings into

a man’s styrofoam cup.

he laughs—come on, white girl,

I know you got more than that.