I look at her and wonder what she would look like if she, took off the clothes of her past or if she...wiped off the beat face of the coerced identity that was, birthed into her before she, was born into this primitive curse of “hand me down” shoes that her grandmothers mother wore too...I wish i knew...where the blood trail of her pain originated from so that, she could face it and see beyond her skin...and see the value within.