As I grew, I learned to curse this sun kissed skin.
It felt like a trap to me,
plaguing me as leper- socially condemned being…
but after I gazed at my brother, the blackened night sky,
I realized my beauty is not far removed from the star decorated evening.
Yes I, and those like me, we are truly glorious.
Our souls shine brilliant as illustrious stars.
Likewise our majesty swallows the Earth in the same manner as the night.
Yet in the morning I find my kin’s worth on a constant depreciation,
so much so we embody the definition of clearance.
Thus, it becomes a clear end that my people are in sore need of proper customer service.
And who is more tailored than the hands that created us?
Manufactured in heaven, our souls are in need of exchange. & in this rebirth simultaneously lies our redefinition.
Thus by our own will we buy ourselves back again as new and improved products of an identity conscious awareness.
We buy our black back from the market that is failing us.
We buy our black back from those who dared to place “for sale” on us.
We reclaim the all the antiquated nuances and connotations of our color, and
Change—black exchange—shed an old identity for another.
Black exchange! We seep into the arts and adorn ourselves in every color
Black exchange! Our thoughts are given eternal life in bold print
Black exchange! & we are enlightened to the extent that our night rules even in the day.