“I who speak here am bone of the bone and flesh of the flesh of them that live within the Veil” – W.E.B Dubois I.
I live the color line Making problems, for none but me. Double conscience being black. Triple conscience, being white? It builds up, builds up Clouds my vision Like a veil.
Like the veil, I stand, I sit, I watch, I think Amongst all others, and there are others Others, like me. But how do I bring it up? Race being so sensitive, The ism being omnipresent.
But us others, we blur the line Of color. We blur the problem. We paint the veil transparent. Right?
For me there is a strange meaning of being: Black, White, Female.
But how can I understand, Indentify With a trident of identities?
Who am I? The color of my skin speaks without me Having to say a word. It doesn’t speak to me. Why does it speak to you?
