Without a filter

Without the camera

Through the eyes of me

I am a plaque of black.

Without a filter

Without the camera

Through the eyes of others

I am an organic Hispanic.

Without a filter

Without the camera

My culture sees me as not curvy enough

But society says I’m not thin enough

And hair too curly and swirly

Plain black and white

Through my eyes

I am shy

I am fine

I am oh so, divine

I cannot be defined.

Constantly being changed

and rearranged.

But through the snap of a picture

I am caught in a glimpse

and missed as one blinks.