Rainbows are seven colours,
But mine is two.
It's a beginning, and it's an end.
I like to think that the middle is
Flowers.
And I believe that the beginning
And the end
Aren't yearly, but seasonal.
Because winter is a bridge,
Between one year and the next.
And the flowers are a bridge,
Made of wind and roots,
A journey that I experience naturally,
An effortless divine,
Within my legs and my arms
And my stomach and my back.
Fingers, face, hair, and breasts.
The beginning is pale,
Not sickly, like some may say,
Just a beauty in its own.
And the end is a darker shade--
Some say brown, I say red--
Impossible to hide but so
Distinctly normal, it's
Not a tan, some may not see it,
I do.
Because it's important.
Recognizing me, seeing me,
My colours and the journey
It took to get here,
I love it.
It matters.
It's here.
I'm here.
Still here.
With changing skin-tones,
With colour so resisting that it's
Two things at once, or it
Comes and goes as it pleases,
Like rainbows.
All, just like rainbows
YOU ARE READING
And My Body Is Nature
PoetryA poetry collection by Tee Foster, inspired by her heritage, mental health, relationships, life experiences, and identity. A majority of these poems are from her past, a version of her that once existed but no longer wanders this world with you.
