Black Woman. Savvy. Santi. Gold. more than Black Maybe. proud to know, more proud to learn. more. in the darkest hours, my blackness is what I find delight in. writer for right now, righter long as I’m in this skin.

I have been reborn under midnight skies, many a night, eye to eye with the moonlight. Once it dawned on me that we are the constellations that were never lifted or lit enough to be seen with accuracy, I never looked to the skies the same. No pay due, or credit to; just pet names as the world ogles freely. juvenile mockery translated perverted homage. they say don’t be ever-so-concerned with the score, at least they didn’t say whore. and more: they are unable to admit to rathering magic witnessed thru the narrow scope to feel in control. if it weighed on the absent conscience, it’d knock america unconscious. anyway, let me stay on topic. Til the stop, watch this. Negrodamiss.