White
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. |