I wondered if my colors would run like the sari my mother washed yesterday,
I watched it bleed and fade.
Maybe if I floated here long enough, belly towards the cracked ceiling,
my brown skin would slip down the drain with the dirty bathwater.
I wondered if my colors would run like the sari my mother washed yesterday,
I watched it bleed and fade.
Maybe if I floated here long enough, belly towards the cracked ceiling,
my brown skin would slip down the drain with the dirty bathwater.