You fear your allure
and all it’s greatness,
the brown skin and mahogany tones.
You fear your beautiful
and all it’s shades
because in the mirror,
you see the un-cried tears and i-love-you’s never received.
You fear your attractive
and all it’s secrets,
you remember the shame before self-love was part of your vocabulary.
You fear your appeal
and all it’s charm,
because you wrestle to accept that
your “black is beautiful”
is more than a consequence of a trend.