When I see you, I see my grandfather, memories, love, a part of me
When you see me, you see a stranger, the other, the enemy
The same thing in you that brings me comfort, in me gives you discomfort
My ease is your pain
The way I would like to be you would censure me for
And then really the way I would like to be is that it wouldn’t matter what I was, who I was, and it wouldn’t matter the way that you were.
Sometimes our eyes open up our world, but what we perceive seals it from us
Why can’t I acknowledge all of my ancestors?
Why does it offend you? How could it? You did not know them
And now, as you see, you don’t know me
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