she gives herself away with
tiny syncopations
well-pronounced consonants
and misplaced vowels
unnoticeable to most and yet
certain expats always find her
it has a unique cadence
when proper white men
smirk
where are you from
and mean
which island
she gives her tropical home
and cringes
feeling him run his tongue over his teeth
tasting her skin
though you
might hear only
his reply
Exotic.
Camele-Ann White was born in Jamaica, West Indies, and grew up in the New York area. She has worked in the performing arts as a writer, director, choreographer, and arts educator. She holds a JD and an MBA from UCLA, and a BA in Film Studies from Yale University. Camele-Ann resides in New York City, where she is currently launching a dance company and writing a collection of poetry and fiction.
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I’m writing as poetry moderator of portside.org–a free online news service–to ask your permission to reprint the Gaze on our site. We give full citation & link to original source (ASUS). I post a poem every Friday evening.
If this is agreeable to you, please send the poem as Word file, add a brief bio, and include the link you want to the original publication.
Cordially
Peter Neil Carroll