I love a black man
I see his laugh across my face,
my childhood in his eyes.
I hear the paternal love each time he calls me "baby girl"
even though I'm pushing twenty
I love him because half of his DNA runs through my veins
just as half of his heart was once in my mother's hands.
Oh how I love him.

I love a black man
The last thing he said to me was "I love you"
before he passed the same week.
He was a lover raising an excess of sons and daughters
and fathering kids he was not the father to because
He was a lover.

I love a black man*
He's called me superstar since I was born and always
tells me how I get more beautiful each time I see him.
I remember how I ran into his athletic molasses brown arms each visit and how he always lifted me high above his head.
He fell in love with a lemon yellow woman and
thus I was born peanut butter all over.
His ears rest on the sides of my face, just as big as his
And I wouldn't trade them for any silence.
I can still hear him accidentally calling me by my mothers name.

I love a black man.
My partner, my equal, my friend.
Grateful for the hours on end we spent in late night conversations trying to figure each other's story
Tell me who you are
He was always better at showing
The big brother in him always saying his little sister is his best friend
Always at peace because he casts all his anxiety on the lord and is teaching me to do the same.
Noticing when I appear less than like myself
Always speaking through his actions until he says
I love you at random
I'm so lucky to love him.

I was taught to love a black man simply because I was loved by black men.
My father, my granddaddy, my granpaw, my friend.
I am so lucky to love them.
I am so lucky to be loved by them.