I swim in the clear soup of your fragility

A backstroke that inevitably feels like drowning

grasping at air, I inhale large waves of broth

eyes burn, lungs fill 

The word “white” trips you, hurts you, others you

Yes,

Is all I can muster

White does hurt

White does other

White does

I look into the bowl from above

and see it–distinct: there are droplets of oil that float atop 

a beautiful reminder that oil and water can mingle

how can we – two women 

White and brown

be collective and individual

you scream: individual, 

choice, liberty 

accept that individual is bigger than the collective–

and i

Stop swimming, 

tread lightly 

and sink to the bottom.