A poem #4
By Cam Noir My favorite color is black. And no it is not because I am goth. But I do love gothic art and music. Black is the absence of light. The lack of white. It is missing the lift, the release. I don’t think black is a lack. If anything it contains it all. It is absorbing. My favorite color is black, because it is filling. A satiable, indescribable feeling is black. Black isn’t a lack-but instead a space. A place, an existence where history and silence meet. It holds the ancestral shed of my blood. Of rhythms deep, and a hearts beat. Black is my love of gothic art, music, and style. It is my cloak of quiet sorrow. Black is the hollow that I carry of generational curses. The aching lies of history that continue to hurt her-story. A black womans tale. Yet, I can see it. Within the lies is freedom. A satiable, indescribable, feeling. I refuse to fear the void. But I bear some fear of freedom. For the freedom I seek is far beyond, any place we can actually reach. A freedom so new...