Black Love smells like
Fresh buttered bread
Fries on the stove
And cheerios with cold milk
Black Love looks like
His broad shoulders
Her wide hips
His chiseled chin
Her full lips
And love-making in the morning.
Black love sounds like
Soft giggles in the back of the class
Withheld moans with hands between thighs
At restaurants around friends
Direct eye contact, lip-biting and whispers of
“I want you” at a family gathering
Black love is the melanin of your skin.
The caramel of her skin.
The freckles on his cheeks
And everything golden about us.
Black love is you.
Black love is me.
Black love is the singing wind of mama afrika as it blows through the trees.