In this country the Black body has always been subject to the breaking and the taking—yet we’ve clutched tight to the promise to love.
Against all odds we willed our oneness. Finding the other half of ourselves in moonlit fields, dimmed juke joints and strobe-lighted clubs. Safe places allowed us to wash away the touch of the Master as we gently kissed away the welts and scars of the day. It was in the quietness of the night–the sanctuary of our embrace—that we pieced our bodies and spirits back together. It was an act of God that instead of running away from the pain we ran into each other’s arms.
What’s so sacred about Black Love?
It was never expected to survive, let alone thrive in the hard-crusted soil of this country’s design. Four hundred years of possession, exchange and disposal–Black Love was mocked and ridiculed.
Lust-filled maggots leeching onto the sacred places the Holy One created for pleasure not pain—for procreation not violation. I know without hesitation I’m a living miracle of Black Love.
Our audacity to love and be loved was stronger than the whip and the chain. We possessed nothing in this world but our souls and allegiance to our Lovers. This legacy of love-resistance is the thread of DNA I am from. My grandparents’ love survived slavery, my parents’ love survived the 60’s and my husband and I will survive this era of Trump–this love is permanent.
I know the sacredness of our oneness each time I reach out and freely have and hold the Black man I’ve been given. I do not take our love for granted. Every time he walks through the doors of our home with his body and spirit intact I am grateful and understand the gift to love I have been given.
In the wee hours of the morning we have talked about the heart-sick pain of our ancestors. Most never had the privilege to sleep under the same roof or the luxury to leisurely spoon together in the same bed, but we do. I cherish every time our lips touch and bodies meet. I am totally surrendered to our Black Love.
A Poem Written For My Love
A mixture composed of iron and carbon
Widely used to construct permanent things.
Just like our love-twisted and bond we make steel.
You the iron
Periodic table you read Fe Atomic number 26
26 and counting …
Baby are the ways you love me with complexity and diversity
With a steady, steady beat
By a mass that has also formed Earth’s inner and outer core, you’ve mastered the art of loving me deeply and thoroughly.
I the carbon
Lesser number on the scale
Yet more versatile and dynamic in the form I’ve been created in
Dimensional is my heart
Like the hundred cuts of a diamond I form towards you
Angled to be your homegirl in the park
Aproned cook in the kitchen
Poet on the stage
Lover in the whatever, whenever, however
You need me to be- I be
Our love like steel-indestructible we stand
Grounded deep like the Eiffel Tower
Cemented with four pillars
Called passion, truth, freedom and destiny
Erects us to heights we never imagined
Placing us in the heavenly’s
Setting our vision on new worlds-reserved for only you and I
To be discovered together
Like steel your body in mine
Has the power to lift my weary soul-free
From the chains and weight of this world
Stressors and pressures that threaten to drown out
Your sweet whispers of
“I got you.”
“Everything is gonna be alright.”
“Stay here close with me.”
Our love like steel
Sacred element of the universe
Uniquely designed by the Holy One
Who sets the cosmos in the air
Chosen as a paired-soul
Offering to the world
A one-of-a-kind love.
- Post-Reflections on the Buffalo, New York Shooting Massacre - May 25, 2022
- A Poem Called Freedom - February 26, 2021
- America Looted The Black Body: (RIP George Floyd) - July 30, 2020