Black Like Mine

I want to fall in love with skin black like mine,
A darkened beauty enameled with grace
And positivity originating in the base of his spine
As proof that something so pure cannot be erased.

I want to empower this skin, black like mine,
To speak life into elegance because words do not waste,
To give loving hope that all is well, that all will be fine
And encourage him to finish his lifelong race.

I want to feel love radiating off of skin black like mine,
An endless timeline not defined by past mistakes,
A flawed perfection who reasonably puts his life on the line,
A historic honor who leaves a trail of excitement in his wake,
A timeless story who willingly allows our souls to intertwine,
And who is willing to give just as much as he’s willing to take.

I want to be inspired by this skin, black like mine.
I need to sense a little bit of God in his smile.
I need him to keep my feet on the ground–
I don’t need cloud nine.

I just need this skin, black like mine.

My twist quest to find my dear


At dawn, with no lingering gesture, 

I will dash off to find thee, 

In an early voyage. 

Though no food nor water, 

But I do not mind. 


At noon, with no lingering gesture, 

I will pace off and find thee, 

Though a failure I was at dawn, 

But I will not mind. 
At dusk, with no lingering gesture, 

I will run to find thee, 

Though, thorns on ground, 

But I will not mind. 
In my circle, they asked,

“Thee” that ye finds, will ye find thee? 

“Why search for such a dear?”

In my circle, I addressed, 

“That special one, keeps me beating”



Under the streetlight she waits

For the man she’ll embrace,

Joy on her face, a smile in place

And dressed in red, a color that bled,

She waits in silence for him on end.

Pulled by a horse, with seemingly little force

A chariot rolls by and he steps outside,

Fills her with ecstasy from his doubtless chivalry

As he whisks her into his arms with uncanny charm,

To the ball of the year, smiling from ear to ear.

Oh what elegance she displays as gently she sways

As she moves side to side with effortless pride,

In this parade, this beautiful masquerade

All she seems to impress, in her beautiful red dress,

With her they wish to dance, to stir a little romance.

From the crowd and noise they flee

To a place where they’re alone and free,

Silhouettes under a big fig tree

In each other’s arms they’re meant to be;

Him and her all alone in the night,

Oh what luck have I tonight.


-Brian Koome-

originally posted at