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I’m high and low pressure systems forming a cyclone over still water. I’m an alternation, a series of changes, A nomad with sand on my heels from every corner of this nation. I’m green, magenta, sunny yellow, cerulean, and turquoise; but most of all—I am Black. So don’t look at me, then attempt to test that. I’m a child in constant wonder. I’m the pilgrim and the chief, the tree and every one of its leaves, the occasional low, thick cloud or a forgotten rain puddle, filling the ground. A lover, because I’ve fought; a winner, because I’ve lost. I am different, in that I am everyone; I am the difference, in being the sum. I’m the fruit of ripe relationships, the mulch of those that have soured, the taste to make your lips pucker, the voice to uplift you, to empower. That song with a melody easy to forget, but with words that penetrate— That dream you can’t quite remember, but with sensations you can’t escape— I’m a string of ideas, of art, of symphony. Minor chord progressions of the highest order, a dissonant masterpiece.
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Dec 25, 2011
Dec 25, 2011 at 10:35 AM UTC
Idea
I’m high and low pressure systems forming a cyclone over still water. I’m an alternation, a series of changes, A nomad with sand on my heels from every corner of this nation. I’m green, magenta, sunny yellow, cerulean, and turquoise; but most of all—I am Black. So don’t look at me, then attempt to test that. I’m a child in constant wonder. I’m the pilgrim and the chief, the tree and every one of its leaves, the occasional low, thick cloud or a forgotten rain puddle, filling the ground. A lover, because I’ve fought; a winner, because I’ve lost. I am different, in that I am everyone; I am the difference, in being the sum. I’m the fruit of ripe relationships, the mulch of those that have soured, the taste to make your lips pucker, the voice to uplift you, to empower. That song with a melody easy to forget, but with words that penetrate— That dream you can’t quite remember, but with sensations you can’t escape— I’m a string of ideas, of art, of symphony. Minor chord progressions of the highest order, a dissonant masterpiece.
rhianna-oreilly
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Dec 25, 2011
Dec 25, 2011 at 10:35 AM UTC
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