There must be a mystery
in our chocolate-brown, honey-cinnamon, 
amber-glazed, crystal-blue, emerald-green,
hazel-burnt, eyes; because 
I caught you looking at,
admiring my caramel covered
in hershey’s kisses, sticky, 
sweet peanut-butter, silky,
smooth mocha, fresh frap
infused with onyx fire
skin…like I just 
stole your best friend
or ran over your
dog, “Man…,” can I 
just breathe in and
out through these luscious,
fully soft, tender lips:
my supposed freedom from 
the slavery imposed upon
the ancestors who paved
this way, walked this 
journey of beating and lynching
my fathers and brothers,
then turned around and
raped and abused
my mothers and sisters in
the name of a 
god you claimed existed
only for “Mistas & Mizzas” who 
were somehow enthralled,
caught up, engrossed with
the blague majik I
have apparently conjured up
with in the soul
of our existence seems
to be a source of 
pain or pleasure I have
no time to elaborate
or contemplate the past
I just read in your
eyes, you tried to hide…,
our future resides in
the change of my
heart to love you 
as much as you 
hate(d) me….