There are only two types of love, he said.
Black love and White love, and I, missing the abstract definition of what he had claimed to be reality, decided to explore, quite graphically,
The real distinction between these two "loves" by exploring them on the Internet.

I wish I hadn't.

I wish I hadn't allowed myself to read too many articles in which stereotypes were only perpetuated:
Do people truly believe that "black men are better in bed?"
Since when did we allow the pleasures of the body to define relationships?
I didn't realize that the word "forever" was only as long as a penis and as shiny as birth control.

Who knew that love could be knotted around my neck in shades of gray only to blossom out crimson bruises,
I didn't realize that not conforming to your societal undulations would make me a sinner.

Do not baptize me in your tight-smiles and easy gossip,
I will not accept your religion...
Nor will I date your insecure reasonings,
Don't come to me to confess your moral dilemma:,
To blow or NOT blow,
Don't tote around signs that scream at me for being a sell-out because
I am not parading around with "one of my own kind,"
I will not be limited to just Black or White love.

I will not allow your ocean of hate to divide my mind into two,
Will not allow the sound of your voices to cause me to self-deprecate,
I will not allow the South to continue only loving the South,
I was born to be a Northerner,
Dress ME in flames...

...hell is advertised in the newspapers and everybody buys.

So, don't hit on my boyfriend in front of me:
Don't wrinkle up your nose and pull him aside,
There is nothing subtle about asking him what he thinks
About how moral it is to be friends with benefits...
Don't think I can't see past your lingering flirtation,
I am Woman,
Not a schema of two colors that can't love lying on a continuum of predestined realities,
I will not conform to your agendas,
I was not born to be made out of paper,
I have a backbone.

There are only two types of love, he said.
Black love and White love aren't meant to be mixed,
He said in Art class we always used charcoal or watercolor or oil,
You never see anything but ugly collages when those are put together,
I said don't confine me to your one-dimension views,
I am NOT a FRICKEN art project,
He said that white love is more heart and black love is more sensual,
He said, you just can't put those two together...

But, my heart is not commited to the fabric of my inner thighs,
I am not an extension of some sex-symbol,
My aorta does not regulate my body at the intersection of my legs,
My mind is not split into two concaves on my chest,
I do not believe that you can define love based on color or that White people have more heart,
So do not try to define my relationships based on your tiny view of the world,
Pardon me, that I cannot only see things through a kaleidescope,
I hope that one day you will see that love cannot be defined by racist thought.