My roots run up and down my spine

Delivering nutrients
To my dark as molasses sweet as

only melanin caress by the lips of the sun herself brown skin,

To my thighs the creators of thunder and lightning,

To my curves of of soft silk singing songs as I sway,

To my open arms who awaits the embrace of sisters,

To my fingers as they scan the pages for tales of her ancestors,

To my lips as words spell onto my neighbor's closed ears,

To my tired wide eyes which ache as my brothers’ blood pours through these screens,

To my scalp treated with as coconut oil as unrefined and smooth as me,

My roots run up and down my spine