That skin! I see the definition, with the muscle flexing underneath, tiny droplet of water luxuriating on the surface. Glistening, dark, taut and healthy, breathing life, packed full of melanin, speaking a thousand words, telling of its journey, a story that none other can tell, hated and revered at the same time. It’s beautiful beyond comprehension, black goldfield that can not be mined dry. It gives and gives and gives and gives, yet never runs dry. It lives a thousand lifes, yet never cracks.
That skin, shining like the sun, blinding the unshaded, giving light to all, the mother of all, the birthplace of all, the womb that brought forth all, yet it’s children lashes at her, but she never stops being the mother that she is.
That skin, you can never truly ignore, try as hard as you can to pretend it does not exist, the image will taunt you, at night you will dream about it because that skin demands to be acknowledged. That skin is power, it is presence.
That skin is more than a covering, that skin is life, it is on a mission. No, you can’t kill it, you can’t stop it, you can’t thwalt it, you can’t suppress it, you can try, but it will fail. All you can do and all you must do is respect it’s journey and stay out of it’s way. It’s a blazing fire, a consuming force. In it’s death, it continues to speak and wage war like the blood of Abel and breath of George. Simply put, it can not be quieten or killed, it’s alive, forever speaking.
I am yet to see anything so beautiful, so raw, so representative of nature, yet so persecuted, so abused, so bastardise, plunder, pillaged and looted over and over.
I cringe, I wail and I groan when I see bearer of the skin bleach, loathing and yearning to strip off one of the most beautiful endowment given to man.
I Celebrate my skin!
Beautiful Ivory 