Another entry into the world of Swing...A Poem called Brown Skin Lay/Assata
We define the misinterperted beauty of the main individual, we dance through the time and we wonder if we can believe in the beauty of your painted on brown. Let's say we induldge in the meanings of your beauty, I keep a picture of you on my right wrist...I look and it reminds me of the demons that chased you...raped you....If I was there would I stop it!! Imagine not being able to stop it...my love I am sorry....But there if you look hard enough..you see something...behind those deep brown eyes...I see what you went through and go through. That's alright....I'm real...Truly through I found the way your syllables flow out your mouth with that understandable smooth shit that not only murderers move but Queens groove to. I dream of you sitting next to your hair a simple/complex representation of the concrete jungle where we come from...Hot days real nice I think I buy some icecream from the truck that seems to roll through the hood promising the American Dream in a representation of a mere ice cream sandwich...Let's kick it and dream about the clouds that come through the shadows of the projects.... Those are scars laying right there beneath the surface and I embrace you...let's embrace...You are strong right there where your heart beats...and you mind meets....The beat nature of your mere hip swinging brings straight up joy to my heart....Girl you are nice....So keep it nice my brown skin lady/Assata
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