i would ask mama
why the girls at school
looked different than me.
for they were the color of snow
that would settle on the ground
and iridesce beneath the sun.
and you are the color of honey, rani
the rich nectar
we borrow from the bees
to turn poison
into wine.
but i swore,
i saw clear skies,
oceans in their eyes.
and i see every shade of the earth
in yours.
but their hair glowed
beneath the sun -
spun from straw
into pure gold.
and your hair is the armor
of generations before you,
the onyx -
an ancient power
and somber beauty.
snow and honey
are born from the same mother,
and the skies and the earth
could not exist without the other.
and man and woman
embellish with both
gold and onyx,
as if to tie the earth’s divinity
around their wrists and necks.
so you cannot compare -
it’s impossible to decide
who is more beautiful,
when we are all children of earth,
when we are all born under the same sun.
- anon