Biracial Prayer

Face,
change.
Split, mix,
rearrange.

Match
the divided
house
inside me.

If they are going
to hate me, from now on
let it be because
I confuse them
as I confuse myself

and no longer because
they’ve slotted me
according to
their preferred labels.

If they are going
to love me, from now on
let it be because
I stir them
as I stir myself

and no longer because
my image tugs at them
from within imagined
costumes.

If they are going
to ignore me, from now on
let it be because
they know all of who I am
and find it safer to do that —

though it’s unnecessary
as I no longer feel
much for them
either way.