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Am I Pretty For A Dark-Skinned Girl?

Am I pretty for black-skinned girl? Does my hair curl under the mist from the waves? Does the wind whip my back as you notice the baby hairs around my neck coil in submission? Can you see how my lashes stand at attention with the fineness that relaxes the roundness of my face?

Am I pretty for a dark-skinned girl when the black is smooth as velvet with hints of a deepness that isn’t roughed up by the decks of hands, that toiled with massive bellies under the treacherous sun.

Is my black skin still pretty when you look into light eyes that give my sockets a wetness that will never dry away the fingers, that held my mouth down in the darkness, that we blended into when I all I could do was ask for the morning.

How dark is dark enough to make the bridge of my nose echo the evidence that makes you cower in my presence with pride, as the corners of my tiny ears make room for the daintiness of my scalp.

Can my blackness be the darkness for a girl who can only be dark when you can find her with your soul, as you reach out until you find me with the curls, that bounce away the doubt as you rummage through my tresses and stress how my dark skin is visible.

Can the limbs of my dark body sprout out long enough to hold us tightly and squeeze away the paint that is deceiving, when you wipe your hands on my strands and outline my pout with your examining gaze. Searching for evidence of the night in the might of what I am.

Am I pretty for a dark skin girl when my color is interchangeable?

Can you imagine me in cocoa cream or the wispiness of a brisk latte in a white cup that burns at the whiff of a touch. Can the shield on my head populate the roundness of my features and the large white teeth that peek out for a tan.

Will you wrap around the hips that sing with movement and the bosom that can catch the rushing ocean as the sand glistens the bellybutton in the light of the morn.

Can the brown skin handle the dark skin all at once or will the girl drown in the battered splashes of hues that kill each other but keep the girl.

And the coils of her hair.

Written by

Juggling Wordsmith. I have a lot to say! https://medium.com/membership https://www.patreon.com/Ezziegirl

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