Unclothed

The skin beneath my eyes

Lay like dark crescent moons

Eclipsing youth with frailty.

These bags were carried

under the eyes

and over the backs

Of my great-grandmother

who escaped Aleppo

and a muddled past

Slanted almond shapes

guided her through Israel

a promised land

And the American dream. 

Showed us all that she’s seen

Through squinted ovals

given to my grandmother 

Handed down to me

A gift wrapped delicately

guised in thin skin

When I was taught

to have thick skin.

Dark pigments

represented dark times

But never weakness.

These bags are strong

Filled with belongings

Of my people and our past.

And yet I try to hide them with 

 a hue foreign to my ancestors.

beige tints and glitter and dusted golds

They knew of no such luxury 

The stripes between my inner thighs

Run like streaks of rain on a car window

Wrapped around my legs

Confining me to skin

with fluorescent marks

I never asked for.

A God-given tattoo

Symbolic of time passed,

Markings of my growth

Drawn between my limbs

Like road maps taking me

Somewhere I ought to be

Urging me to move forward

traveling with scars

I never asked for

to accept and house them 

as my own kin 

The way my ancestors 

Housed me