• Vol. 06
  • Chapter 04
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Genetics of a revolution

I inherited the curls of my hair
from my mother.
But her turquoise eyes were another
from her mother’s black.
I also inherited the struggle
from my mother.
The same struggle
that my grandmother handed down.
I raised my daughter to look down
To think twice, to stay cautious.
Regressive, you say? Recessive, I think.
I borrowed a bandana
from my daughter
to keep my hair from blocking
my eyes.

I inherited the revolution, I inherited the fight
I want it to end with me.