If I tattooed my degrees on my flesh
Would my body have value then?
Does my value increase with each piece of parchment earned?
Because I … “made it”? Will I, make it?
Brown girl
Bachelor’s Degree
“Good for you … (brown girl)”
still just a brown girl
Master’s Degree
“You speak so well!”
… for a brown girl?
Well hear me now
If I adorn myself in your validation
will it protect my flesh from being swallowed by your streets?
Or does the melanin that saturates my being
make me just too much?
For you.
But this, is not for you.
This is for the brown girls.
My sisters
We know that no matter where we walk
and what we wear
we’re always standing at the intersection of racism, classism and misogyny
This is for the ones whose bodies have fallen
back into the embrace of our Mother,
into her cradling arms – the ebbs and flows of her veins
To the brown girls,
You are doused in magic
from lightly sun-kissed to the richest depth of cocoa colour
You are generations of resistance
You are grandmothers’ prayers
And the songs that kept hearts beating
With every breath, you take in poison and breathe out poetry
Your body has birthed an ocean of memories and possibilities
And like that ocean, you are endless.