For the Ancestors (A Poem)

If I fall in love wrong,
Is it disrespect?
If the hand in mine is pale instead of dark,
If her eyes, their eyes
Can’t see
If his ears can’t hear,
If her mouth can’t speak
If their legs don’t move, their arms.
If their family hates me,
Will you hate me?
 
Is it giving up to want?
To have someone see me?
To be more than?
More than exotic,
More than different,
Less than different,
Me.
 
If he
Or she
Or they.
One or two
Can love me completely,
Can you forgive me?
If we don’t look the same,
But when we look into each other’s eyes, we see the future,
We are the future,
Would you leave?
 
If their hands are darker than mine,
The palms of her hands lighter,
The soles of his feet,
Would you leave me?
Would I feel it,
Somewhere deep inside of me?
I wonder.
 
Given the chance, any chance,
Would you hate me for being different
From you?
For being strong in my sense of gender- she, her, hers,
For being not- quite- white- enough,
But not- quite- dark- enough either?
For being neither,
For being both.
You gave up everything
So I could be here
Existing, unafraid.
Would you hate me,
If they looked less like you?
 
Do you already hate me, for them?
Do you hate each other
Within me,
The way you hate each other
Outside of me?
In the streets
In unfair policy,
In policing,
In the words of Dr. King?
Do you hate each other
For Civil Rights?
For the opportunities two sets of sacrifice gave rise to?
Me.
 
Or, if he looked more like you,
Would you love me more?
Do you hate me already
For who I am,
The color of my skin,
The way I speak?
My separation from one or the other,
The way I’m both?
Does it sicken you
That I’m the product of you?
All your sacrifices
For my bleeding heart.
My empathy,
My terrible jokes?
And would it assuage you,
If I loved someone more like you?
 
Would you love me?