brown

The color no one picks.

No one loves.

No one’s favorite.

It’s the color of mud and the color of things people use to describe when some thing is bad.

It’s the color of unclean and filth when you’re talking about a white rug after baseball practice.

And if you’re talking about skin it’s the color people have seen and automatically assume less than.

Brown is the color I pick.

Brown is what I love.

Brown is my favorite.

Brown is the color of the hand-me-down shinning eyes I got from my mother.

The color of messy perfect hair I received from my broken father.

Brown is the piles of leaves we jumped into as innocent children.

Brown is the color of skin we decided did not separate us when we adapted Him, his brother, and Her into our family.

Brown was the trees we climbed creating core memories in my story book of life.

The sand of beaches I have always escaped to.

The color of edible comfort.