To Relish In Something Serene
I’ve decided I’m going to try to sell myself to a black man. Why? Because one day they’ll be worth a lot. Either the world will realize how magnificent they are or their climbing extinction will cause them to be rare. So, I’ve decided to create a sales pitch for myself.
I am also black. Not red bone-black. But I like to describe my skin color as a moch-coco dream. Together we can recreate the black man. I will carry the black man because it’s believed their mothers are the only ones who can hold their weight. But I’m not just talking about our child. I’m talking about him.
I can write. And I will submit as many articles as I possibly can until the news is dripping with the black man’s loving face. Not for crime cases. Not for the Who-Don-Its. Not for new catch phrases that circulate on white people’s Facebook pages. But - to relish in something serene. A version of the black man that I never see on TV.
I’m soft like the thoughts he can’t have.
I won’t watch the black man. I will only admire from different distances. And I will listen to him when he tells me how the world’s glances frown down whenever he tries to enhance the embedded crown on his head.
I will change him. Not that he needs to be decorated in different patterns but I will show everyone that no matter how you paint him, you can not negate the tint of my man.
His complexion is not a fetish. His dark skin is not in for right now. I’ve been black for a quarter of a century and all of a sudden everyone wants to be me. I’m a never ending fad.
Do you know what happens when a gun is in his face? Do you know how to embrace him right? What do you do when a black man cries at night? Most people just call the cops. I’ll put a blockade on any tear drop that is shot your way.
What do you say? I think I’m just as great.