The Artsy Black Girl

She weaves fabric through her fingers; mere cloths of Nothing.

From It, creation comes.

You watch her inhale energies that drip like liquid gold in shimmering puddles
Below her,
You wait to exhale.

You did not know you were not breathing.

You did not see you were so engulfed.

She knew that you would be.

And, so, w flowers in her hair and bells on her hips,
She tips her waist in rhythmic twists
and turns
and whisssspers this:
"I hope you can withstand it."

Tantric, isnt she?

Eve genes are her makeup.
From her, you came.

This..
Artsy Black Girl
dances spells around you
To music her melanin makes

And you..?
You stare
And wish upon stars within galaxies she manifested,
that you could be like her-
The Artsy Black Girl.

And she knew that you would.

From gods she descended;
W an all knowing mind, she pretended to know nothing
W intentions of blinding you

-unfinished