Congratulations on attaining this peculiar disability.
Forgive my morbidity but,
tell me, what does my skin look like sans color?
Since I am no longer black to you
I could not be grey either, since grey is a color too.
Perhaps you see me as truly colorless, a shape-shifter like water or air?
But even then, when the light bends through me
is it like looking through glass?
Am I to be just as brittle?
Can you still read the texture of my hair, the shape of my eyes and mouth?
Or is that more of the color you don’t see?
I must be a phantasm then.
No wonder you seem so scared,
All this pushback from a ghost.
What is it like to live a life so haunted?
And what do you see when you see yourself?
Can you see yourself?
Perhaps you are a ghost too.
— Janine Serioux