The Archive

Sunday, 14 September 2014


My darling, the girl in the magazine
Staring doe eyed in to the distance
As she provocatively poses
Her dewy, ivory skin glistening
Like delicate white roses
Silently reminding you,
That to be fair, is to be lovely.
Commanding you to bleach away
Your rich brown shade
As the colour gradually fades,
So do the roots that kept you grounded
To your Motherland.
My darling, you are now
As white as the Oppressor.
If not worse.

J. A. Kaur

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