Beautifully Black

Her black is beautiful

So irresistible she is to me

I stop mid-sentence whenever she crosses my mind

Like warm chocolate she slowly melts as I run my finger down the center of her back.

As she exhales the scent of coconut and shea butter radiates from her…like a breath of fresh air...

I’d kiss her hand a million times just so I can remain in her presence….

She is strong but her words are even stronger

It demands respect

When she speaks all listen

Dazed by the way her words flow out of her mouth like wind dancing over waves 

Eyes so passionately placed on a goal that she is determined to complete

Hair wild yet tamed by just the natural curls that form the shape of a throwback microphone that is refusing to be replaced

With a body that has been sculpted by God all mighty himself 

Only a real man can handle what lies beneath her clothing… and so therefore only a king is allowed to stand beside her

She is respected because of her beauty

Loved because of her mind.

Sought out because of her heart

Talked about because of her strength

Her black is beautiful...

 

Yet still…there is so much more to her...

 

The ground beneath strength stands strong underneath her high cut boots

Blended so effortlessly with the lining of her denim jeans

She is chocolate from the soles of her feet all the way up to the top of her head

Full kissable lips…and almond shaped eyes

Yes she is amazing even Mona Lisa rolls her eyes from the place she now currently sits

Words of passion, faith and strength radiates from her mouth as she and her sistas raises their fists up to the sky

Yelling that this is not right, we shall overcome 

We have been pushed down our scars we wear as badges of honor

Because if we cover them up, how would the world know what we are fighting for?

These scars that has cut my flesh pierced my heart and stole my soul

Released the blood that had birthed the world

United we stand strong and high as we welcome our brothas and sistas to a fight that we are going to win

Her eyes weep with hurt as she turns and watch as her counterparts fall to the floor

Staining the concrete as the walls that has been stained by the signatures of adolescences

Walls screaming out chants that has long been forgotten

If my black is ugly why remove me from my home?

Why take my child and try to make him in your own image?

Why fear what you ultimately created?

Her black is beautiful because it is so unique 

It comes in many shapes and colors custom made to fit her in every possible way.