Underneath my pale skin-

below my white concealment
the spirit of;

African beats;
Taino blood;
European conquest;
Through a Caribbean echo;
the dormant beats of island sounds.

Exposing this-
American identity.

 My history;
I recall-
The darker skins that preceded me.

The caramel flesh my daughters possess; the tangled hair that sits on their head
my ghost-like flesh and their mixed tones;
Show an Afro-Caribbean-Indian-European mix.

Rhythmic drums,
pounding out the tears,
of the island’s sing-song melody.

Composed with time;
two worlds collide;
to produce the American in me.