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News / Articles

Poem: Black Woman

Antonia Taylor, San Antonio Express-News | Published on 1/4/2022

The black skin on my hands means everything

In the constant pursuit of freedom

Cracks on my knuckles persist

As I spill blood

On the foot of Lady Justice

In the eye of our system —

And to the men above me —

I am identified by

A mere color

And by the status of my uterus:

“Functional or not”

Can I reproduce more Blacks — like me?

To them I am many things

But of those, I choose to be none.

I dream of a day I lay

On the soft banks of North Africa

Where my people were stolen from

And watch the sunset

In a place where I am seen

For what I am:

Divine feminine, Human, Eternal

I will find a place where I can heal

My brothers, sisters, and siblings

Of traumas

Inflicted by the state

Not of our choosing

Everlasting freedom is not found

In the dead eyes of formal men

But in the colored skin that lays upon by bone

The soft glow of my ancestor’s oil lamps

And the whispered hymns of my great-grandmother

Antonia Taylor is pursuing a master’s degree in public administration at the University of Texas at San Antonio. She is the graduate winner of the League of Women Voters of San Antonio’s Our Future: Our Vote Youth Initiative contest.

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