INSECT POEM

INSECT POEM

INSECT POEM

My auntie says look at
the difference in the colours of our skins
one lighter than the other (both brown)
in the hot air one sweaty the other dry
I hold her hand. We talk about race
I guess and I feel uncomfortable so does my
sister the fan hums my grandmother grandfather
have not died and they sit near and chat I
hold my auntie’s hand cool and smooth. I hold
my sister’s hand raised and hot damp her
hair sticks many insects have bitten her and
me but less me each bite like a growing
bulb pink and sore near to erupt. We scratch
until they scab yellow red shields I need to
pull away to get the itching treasure
underneath we cut our nails short and can’t
get the treasure treasure upon treasure
erupting over our entire beings I want the
treasure. I do not want the treasure
temporary and diseased like eating so many
potato chips you regret
because of your stomach and head upset
from salt. My auntie’s hand soothes me she asks
a riddle what colour do all human bodies share
in common white teeth I say whites of the eyes
oh pupils black pupils my sister says white
nails my auntie looks alarmed. No blood we
stroke and slap our bites for relief and wake
up bleeding small bubbles of blood on the
sheets not from the insects only from
unconscious scratching I want to bite off
all the treasure mines and scratch them
forever and wish my skin calm smooth
like my auntie.