Face of My Ancestors

Am I who I see?

Am I who you see?

Our vision is a horizon.

Planner and flatlined.

Hazy and equivocal.

I am but my own.

My eyes are of my father.

My hands of my mother.

Atoms are arranged anywise.

I am the face of love and hate.

I am the face of my Ancestors.

An unencumbered signature.