Black Beauty

Loneliness comes with the territory of being a black woman fully seated in her power;

not even rose water is a scent strong enough to cover up its smell.

Our power comes from reception. We take the world in, let it penetrate us.

We run the world through our body every conflict, every victory, every war, every celebration, every heartbreak. We take it all the way in and spin it into gold before sending it back out. We are the first alchemists.

Our station in life is hardly conducive for love, at least not the traditional, romantic sense of the word. Men are trained to want a woman who is pure, more virginal than sacred Jezebel.

They lie next to us and feel the whole world in their bed, faced with every difficulty they want to turn away from.

The strength and openness we possess is best used to transmute life’s poison into medicine.

Every ounce of darkness, what society is quick to abandon or disregard, we treat with dignity and value.

Our bodies hold the range of ugly; we make it beautiful, wear it well.