Beautiful Black Shadow

I am the whispers between the arch of the backless gown,
The beautiful black shadow that lingers
in the deserted alleyways.
I am the apartheid of femininity
the war on women,
and the voice shouting above the train.
I bow to your order,
Shedding myself as I go along.
Bringing gifts of silence to my matrimony of selves,
Holding within, thoughts of flight, of dreams, of hope.
I am the many who drift along the edges of this globe,
gliding over the circumference of existence,
trading in goods of sexual prowess and the need
to be loved.
Within myself, I see mirrors of who was, who is and-
who could never be.
I pay homage to the black sisters who wish themselves yellow,
Who pray chemicals over their kinky crowns,
who lift thighs high in salute to an identity
they have been thrusted.
I am the whispers, the prayers, the moans.
I am without but yet somewhere I am within.
Somewhere within, I am the beautiful black shadow that talks-
in the background.