I'm made of galaxies

The colour of my skin

Comes from the colour of the galaxies

The lines on my hands 

Form constellations from the sky

The stars dance 

At the tip of my fingers

And I see miracles

Happen between them

I wasn't taught to write on dotted lines

Or read between them

I wasn't taught to conform

Or colour inside boxes and circles

I was told to be free

I was made to be me

There are colours running in my veins

And I could breathe the words I say

I don't know if I could ever exist

In any other way