Black mum parts my continent of head,

with glazed black cotton begins to wind

each division so fiercely my mind

bleeds black.  I can't close my eyes in bed.

White mum uses fading navy thread,

the tension less cruel, more kind

but the vision colour-blind

so I see red.

I read the instructions for shocking-red dye

(freedom has given me the green light)

yet bury the evidence under a head-tie

like the insight

that I see the world through a red eye

where blood and heart mean more than black and

white.