Not Just Black and White

I don’t know what it was that pulled me into you.

Perhaps it’s the way your neck sits on top of your shoulders,

All square and milky with the hint of strawberry hue.

On the places my lips touch,

When I nip and I bite.

Maybe it was the mole that sits in the crease of your cheek,

Adds personality to your face,

Complimenting all that character you already keep.

I wonder if it was light in your eyes,

When they danced over the rigidness of my lips,

They dart all about me analyzing the darkness in my skin,

Are you admiring my bold full features?

Sometimes I think that it was our stand offish awkwardness we had when you first held my hand,

Or when you sat across from me on our first kinda date and you asked to be mine.

I said, no.

I was scared then. Still a little scared now.

Only because you’ve been completely unexpected.

You were never part of my plan,

I didn’t see you clinging on to this design my God has made.

Engulfing my whole core in the span of your arms,

I didn’t expect all the kisses you’d put all over me,

I wasn’t expecting to be made love to -or- cry with sheer pleasure.

Overwhelming emotions bubbling over the top.

I had no choice but to absolutely make you mine.

It was that moment,

It wasn’t the sex.

It was the way that you looked at me and smiled.

I think, perhaps, that was when you knew.

You knew I had totally and completely fallen for you.

And maybe that was when you fell for me too.

I couldn't help but cry and hide my face.

Not because I was ashamed because I was this Black Girl being made love to by this White Guy.

No.

It wasn't that at all.

It was because I was proud and I didn't want you to be cautious.

You’re bringing out this Woman in me.

I don’t think you know.

We aren't just Black and White anymore.

We’re something mixed in the realm of,


Love.