by Jenna Kahley
Being mulatto
is like being a
thick book
with a beige cover—
browsed,
sheleved,
never bought.
For those who
don’t know what
that word means,
you’d call my
colored skin
“caffeinated milk”
or “stained paper.”
Beauty like
dough baked
golden.
Sink your
sights into it,
Or let it stale.
Artists use me
to shade canvases
and tint charcoal.
“Mallato?”
Google it,
You won’t find
how it feels
To live in
prism
to be
Pantone
I want to be
bound
in leather,
steel, or
saran wrap
Where nothing
can change
the words
on the pages.
Or how
they fade
under the weight
of the sun.
Jenna Kahley is a creative writing and theatre double major with a love for telling stories through both language and images. Her most significant writing accomplishment is her Scholastic Silver Key for her poem “Last Week in a Nutshell.”