My Black Woman

My black woman everytime i see your face, it reminds me of your birth. of how your mother held you gently like Jesus held his disciples. i believe black is not a sin. it is a desire when our mouths refuse to express. my black woman. naked your soul and let us ride to the shores of cestos. where our bodies find peace in these wet sands. where i hold you like an even number/ this means you are mine without remainder. in this new garden of eden. as adam unfolded himself to eve. i want to give my body to you as a living sacrifice. break me into pieces of nice cakes & tell me how it feels to be born black. damn! i want to see what's hidden in your head-tie. your face/ a magic mirror of joy hanging in my bedroom. your lips/ two skins i am craving to roll my saliva upon. my black woman, if you ask me to paint a picture of you. i will draw another monalisa like Leonardo did/ i will paint you without scars/ & say you are just too enough to be painted into pictures.