Hands Colliding


Gaining perspective
It came as a shock
There was no turning back, no sign of a clock
Time was no issue
Judgment had no aim
Laughter was a necessity, that did not produce shame
We came in as infants, children to be taught, the ways of a world in which we have surely fought, what did we learn, how much was gained, were we all that glad we came?
Questions kept arising, when would it be my turn?
What was it going to be like?
How long would it take?
Little did I know, it was all for my sake.
Her hands were dark, a black that I could see. But when mine came over hers, there was no diversity.
We were made as one in that moment,
An equality never expressed, she was giving me a gift,
Something that could not be taken.
Stereotypes being bent.
She took my hand so gently, and began the process to clean me.
Washing away all those thoughts of unclear ambiguity.
I will never forget, that in which she took from me.
For I didn’t know I had it and that I needed to be set free.
No more barriers to be found, no more walls to be formed.
It was the calm after a storm.
Changing me forever. Never to be the same.
She striped me of my mindset, that had the west to blame.
My hand in hers, two colors coming together, two worlds making headway, two sides conforming, a reconciliation, I did not know was contorting.
I will not forget, the gift she gave to me.
It will be in my heart, and on my hand, for an eternity.


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