This is how I remember him…

Black like an ocean night
Smooth like Milan marble
Sculpted like a new David

This is how I first saw him.
This is how I remember him…

Standing on a Brazilian beach
one Sunday afternoon
The Atlantic dripping off him
Caliente heat steaming from him
Machismo simmering within him

His eyes welcomed me.
His lips promised secrets

But my lips said nothing
And his ears heard nothing

On the crowded beach, my friends and I sat
I saw him and he saw me,
But I knew what my friends saw
Blue-black, field —, too dark for lovin’ mister

So I remained quiet
He remained quiet

Blacks don’t always love black
Cocoa, dark chocolate, hot mocha–yes,
But not black
It’s the color of struggle
the color of sorrow
the color of unmentionable pain

So I said nothing
And he heard nothing

And when he caught me staring
I glanced away
And watched boys practice Capeoira.


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