They say my black
is not pretty
as if my hair is
not the color of the
night that holds
the moon in
all her silvery glory
as if dark
doesn't heal
the wounds of an
oppressive Sun
as if my eyes
aren't deep enough
to capture
a kaliedoscope of colors
as if my skin
doesn't glow
luminescent
soft enough to
inspire you to sleep
to dream up another world
with my wings
an opulent black
like a mirror reflecting
the whole wide world.