The Stranger
I used to wonder why the sky was blue
How much wood could a woodchuck chuck
And how many licks it took to get to the center of a tootsie pop
The stranger in all of the photos is me
Somehow she’s prettier
I used to wonder how 9 years old is so different from 10 years old
I used to wonder why Grandaddy died
I used to wonder why I couldn’t go with him
I used to wonder what it meant to talk white
I remember the stranger in the photo
She’s really pretty
I wonder why there aren’t riots in the street
Why racism has been normalized
Why I can’t be proud of who I am
The girl in the photo
I wish I could say that I knew her