If a wish granted you any body, what would you look like and why?

I would host every body, and no body at all. I would possess chameleon, color-changing powers, much like X-Men’s Mystique, able to change appearance and gender fully, second-to-second. Woman of color, white man, able-bodied, disabled, young, old . . . I would climb the highest political ranks with the sole purpose of changing policies and eventually, the world. I would travel as an anthropologist, able to blend in and converse with locals who hold priceless wisdom and knowledge that gentrifiers never care to understand. I would learn every language with the hope to fully immerse everyone of every culture in earnest interaction. The only consistency to my multitude of physical personas would be my heart, soul, and mind, rendering them the only valuable portals into my humanity and identity, the body merely but a shell. Unquantifiable, impossible to understand or label by appearance alone . . . get to know me, Aura, through conversation and action.

If you can’t erase the significance of color, erase color.

If you can’t erase the significance of the body, erase the body.

If you can’t erase the significance of color, erase color.

If you can’t erase the significance of the body, erase the body.

If you can’t erase the significance of color, erase color.

If you can’t erase the significance of the body, erase the body.

If you can’t erase the significance of color, erase color.

If you can’t erase the significance of the body, erase the body.

If you can’t erase the significance of color, erase color.

                                                                    erase color.

                                                                    erase color.

                                                                    erase color.

lick me, endlessly

you say my color      matters.

you rule this world, it’s final,

               my color      matters.

so let me tell you how much

i                                   matter.

 

i make       culture.

she makes  culture.

jaye makes culture.

you, sitting atop your throne built on generational privilege off the backs of marginalized color–

you,           atop your throne devoid of character wisdom color, take culture.

you      lick me and spit me out as you please.

            lick me and spit me out           , please.

 

add a touch of sunshine and i’ll show you every color,

                                              i’ll show you every dimension.

glistening off every perfectly cut diamond edge,

i shine,

            royellowgbiv.

i live,

            royellowgbiv.

you see

            royellowgbiv.

 

so press your tongue against my sharp perfection.

            lick me and let me slice off your definitions, your fetishization

like a blessed magic trick, birthed and slain by white pleasure.

you’ll die

            and i

                      ’ll live forever.

in the eyes ears mouths of your children,

            royellowbgiv,

            i’ll live forever.