I think I know what I concretely see
     what I visually remember    what I hear
or listen to    in the silence of my mind
     what I thought I smelled    if not tainted
not sure if my senses    are tainted      How
     do I know my existence    my palms pressed
against a beech tree    aged with florescent moss
     stained against the base      How do I know
my existence    jolted by distant bush movements
     unlike the leaves    hissing from intense breeze
in sea waves    or maybe    the green finches
     and blackcaps    caught by bird recording    not trusting
what I hear      How do I know my existence      I speak
     English in Japan   Germany   Slovakia    my English
sounds different    to each      I remember best
     my written words     I get to erase cross out annul until
I find a fitting word    until I grow a tree ring    revise
     or wonder what I was thinking    I am then redressing
my existence      A field mouse    hollow
     in a hollow      A possible truth    is how
someone sees me    how each sensory reception
     which believes    in their existence    believes    in mine
I always wondered    how we from preschool    are taught
     colors    how we concretely paint images    yet
I am    called black   with brown skin