Roots, ink, oceans shores colour me the branches of trees to let the world know that the earth wants to be one with me.
I am a sunrise the skies have longed to see, midnight is home and the moon has never grown tired of looking at me.
I’m raised from the ground we walk on and how dare you look past the history that cloths my skin.
Beautiful black woman bear with me,
you are what the heavens would call an empress queen, your skin reminds me of the slow movements of clouds over the African skies as they speak of you as if you are the only beauty they were ever given the privilege to see…
Your presence is a poem that God recited years before your were born its a lala by that puts angels to bed.
Beautiful black woman I know your struggles are far from over, society is trying place your existence in vain, but know that they only do so because they feel inferior to you and know about the ancient powers you possess to look as if you are a painting done by stars.
Please reframe from feeling any less majestic than you actually are just because your skin bares the darker tones,
your are what I think about when I see musical notes.
They make black seem like a desease
if only they knew it was this midnight bearing skin was the cure that set my people free.
My black queen don’t be discouraged as your body is a temple that men should only be allowed to pray and worship thy glory.
You are the essence of a daydreamed tied behind a set of angel wings…
Don’t feel insecure about the amount of Africa that is evident in your skin,
your are the branches of our ancestral tree whose roots dig deeper than time as they fought to let us be.
So beautiful black empress queen all I ask is that you bare with me.