Hello, indignantly ignorant and in-dubious ****.
Have you ever thought that maybe some people prefer black
partners because they tend to be blessed down under, if
you know what I'm saying?
Have you ever thought that maybe all this hate leaking from
your shipwrecked **** mind is product of some... innate jealousy?
Have you ever thought that maybe some women aren't particularly
attracted to you, whether it be because of your shade or because
of your prejudices against other colors, or poly-chromatic
flags?
You claim 'black' is the stuff of nightmare, but there are many
who appreciate the deep intensity of a night sky, or the depth
and soul at the center of another's eyes as much as I do
Black is not 'ugly', black is not 'stupid', it is not
a name, it is a shade, it is a COLOR
it is a badge of honor in the presence of pretentious *** holes
such as your self, it is a PRIVILEGE to strut in pride,
in confidence of their sentient humanity among
tool shed minds, to be of convenient use to anyone but themselves,
unless of course you're a '****** lover'
have you ever thought, that maybe a '****** lover' is only
just more capable of seeing the artist, not the canvas,
the priest or priestess of his or her temple,
this skin should not be a wall to ward off friends, but elastic,
to keep us all together
have you ever thought perhaps they're more evolved and
are most likely independent thinkers who choose not to live
up to pre-set standards encouraged by family and societal
stereotypes that thunder like stereo but make not music, but noise
and becoming a reincarnate of but another generation of hate
you aren't a drop of water in the ocean, you are a tall
glass of poison to me
you shrivel my mercy and make me want to drown you in yourself
through me
you make me want to be as bigoted and disgusting as you are,
to ride by your neighbor hood in a mask and shoot you,
only I wouldn't wear a mask, or shoot you, because I'd like to
look you in the eyes as you see what seems to be a reflection
of yourself, a talking mirror, cutting into you with my teeth
my sharp words, my uncensored lips, my steely resemblance
and also because well, wearing masks is ***** ****.
have you ever thought maybe those '****** lovers' are happy
with who they're loving, who they're *******, and are not
concerned about your 'opinion' until your 'opinion' becomes
tearing a soul away from his or her loved one and body,
you are a ****** reaper,
you defile the sacred, and take a life because they're nothing
more but a slab of meat to you, you objectify them and decide
they aren't palatable to your sight
humans are not chapters, they aren't mathematical theories,
they are not animate criminal records,
they CAN NOT be color coded, they are not yours to color code
how dare you even CALL yourself human when you can't even tell
a person from your own property
or someone's happiness from your ******* business
I'm sure you've never thought, but have merely recycled
the polluted beliefs of your 'patriotic' culture and
inherited your families porcelain skin, they probably taught you
it was a weapon, a plastic bag to suffocate others in
skin is NOT a sin, it isn't natural selection,
when will you see if your own inherent mental failure proves
the fault in our evolution?
And I mean, how can you shame a race that's believed to have
pre-dated us all, to have been us all?
I'm sure this thought has probably never crossed your mind, but
know this.... tomorrow I'm going to **** the life out of my
black boyfriend. Hard. Like yin and yang we are going to
roll around with inevitable and fulfilling love,
and boy, is he black.

You bring me joy, and it's unnerving.
Knowing that it does not rest in your hands, but it is your hands
in mine, and knowing we are seperate beings
coming together, like an eclipse,
for a short time.

Let me be your Isis
I'll scavenge the land for the pieces of you they've stolen
and fit each and every piece back together with delicate fingers
Your kintsugi astounds me, each and every break so beautiful
It is not my reflection I admire as my eyes dwell along and ride
the golden rivers you try and keep from me
Let me be your Isis
let me see the melancholy spill from your eyes
the snap of your spirit when my words are like sin
I am not perfect, and I will drown in my folly like gin
down my father's throat
my father does not know how to swim.
But your pain is like a gasp of breath sometimes
when it reminds me that you are of the firmest birch tree
your bark does not bend to just any wind
and the symphony of susurrus that accompanies the midnight
breeze, escaping the ivory lamina of your leaves, each note
leaping off of every blade like a dancer,
are NOT composed by just any sultry sylph
Let me be your Isis
Be my Osiris, a masterpiece

I had a dream a while ago in which I shattered to pieces
my porcelain feelings screaming, as my fragile being, my ego
careened into the abrasive floors of a street. My chest became
my cremation chamber when your eyes stabbed instead of kissed
me, charring my skies and calcifying my heart until it crumbled
in defeat.
You left me in this dream; and I became an orphaned soldier,
because your arms have a way of sailing me home, and I
was left stranded with my cheek to the dirt
they're
the entrancing warmth I feel as I open the entrance door after
what feels like a montage  , surgically patching my broken days
into weeks and months, but every patch is the same **** color
every patch the burial ground of scattered death
dirt
tears
dirt
have you ever slept with a quilt so dull it's covers disown you
under it's hollow body?
It's difficult to describe to you verbally the intensity of
what I feel for you, my volubility vulnerable to flaws in the
jaws of inexperience and tangled in destiny's hair, but I can
say I choke under the heavy smoke of my ignorant mistakes,
I cry for you, your pain, I wish I could steal it and make it
my own but it seems that too is a dream.

We commence the acencion into an oxygen void dimension of vivid colors and breathless serenity
your beach-breaze salty glaze compliments your starved gaze as you graze my thighs and sigh through Slytherin lips,
blindly searching for the switch buried in my skin, a surpressed sunset at your fingertips
You need me now, like an orphaned lover you miss me, your strong hands cannot understand the firm grip of my surreal sweet lips, the warm
carresses of my tongue, the twists, the complex concoction of intoxicating love-making physical poetry, Constructing
your perfect carnal high, I trace fairy trails down your chest into the fields of your belly, I paint roses onto your skin with my soft
puckered sips, I drink from you your pleasure and make it my own, you're not alone on this quest to fullfillment,  DO your fill and
you'll recieve in full.I'm at your command. Move me like your marrionette star, I'll repeat which ever wonders your whispers wish me to,
let us commerce in our spiritual sign language, catalyst mental eruption, hot and heavy streams of red-hot moans rivers into tropical atmosphere,
riveting the hem of my body as my soul slips through the strips of bone, the rib caging my bongo core as it crecendos into **** sore psalms, my palms
rooted to your crown as I combust into a comet, corrupted by the sublime nectar dripping off the rims of your mouth, connecting the dots to my being,
you found me
now come

so this tiny beauty queen kissed me
she left a stain
the red was pure and ****** vain
she grew up and stretched out my whole way of thinking
she kissed me and all i see is enemy ships sinking
blood roses grow within beds of lovers
the shady curtains, the safety covers
the hovering clouds of darkness creep in
but my soul is bound to her luminating spirit
it freely roams unkown worlds
she, my north star. i, her mobile home
hold her when she's afraid she'll spill
her insides onto the window sill