Give me. All of you. Inch to inch. Thought for thought. Lost in your afro. in your accent. in your scent. That Shea butter. That Caribbean. Them curls. You speak revolution. How could I describe you? DAMN. In you. There must be galaxies rolling of the tip of your tongue. There must be civilization cradled in your diaphragm, pantheons and pyramids in your braids. Skin brown, that brown, ohhhh that brown like soil. How did God make you? DAMN. She split black holes, spoke Holy Words, I think She made herself. I mean. DAMN. Your walk, your wisdom, your speech, your everything, your you. DAMN. Beautiful is you. Beautiful. Is all you. All of you. Every. Inch.