I know what it is to feel
untouchable –
a caste away
from acceptability.

This dot they placed upon me
curses, condemns
my household to
unremitting agony.


Dark eyes turned down to avoid
the grimaces,
pitying stares
from empty emerald eyes.

Even city rats scurry
away from me.

Shivering, I
walk alone in summer stench

Of your denunciation
and sweep these streets
because that is
your diabolical wish.


And yet the God we worship
seems color blind,
oblivious
to my castaway status

from community and clan.
Lowly, less than,
least likely to,
I am precious in His sight.