December 7, 2016
By Christina Castillo
my America loves me
they love my tan
and my curls
as long as it is not on me
they love my mother’s hips
and her language
as long as she is not the one speaking it
because “sweetie, we speak English in America”
do you understand?
America loves the foreign fantasy of me,
but not the foreigner
my America loves to see my sisters in tight, revealing clothes
on the red carpet as their arm candy
never the main invitee
always just
an accessory
Categories: Anti-Racism, News, Poetry