I check the little box:
White
when asked, directed, demanded
to say my color


But the closest I have come
to being actually
White
was the first time they took my blood
and my youthful bravado made me
watch the blood fill the tube


Arms tingling
head spinning
mind shutting down


The nurse said:
Your face is very white;
put your head between your knees


I stayed on the unfainted side of consciousness
and as I left, a look in the mirror showed
I was still her version of
White


Even then, the
Whiteness
wasn't pure, uncolored
wasn't like the soap


just the wrong shade of my usual
Pinkishness


Harry W. Yeatts Jr.