Sun-Kissed

Can she shine?
Solely because the sun smiles in her direction,
Beams to capture the complexity of a captivating complexion.

Can she shine?
With light falling softly onto skin so smooth, like a gentle caress,
With the body of a goddess, you'd swear to God she's blessed.

Can she shine?
Where beauty can be only surface deep.
When she has full lips that should be coveted because of the wisdom they speak,
And long lashes concealing the depth of the insight she keeps.

Let her shine!
Instead of hiding that spark deep down in dark brown eyes,
With matching skin to complete the beautiful disguise.
She is so much more than strong.
So much more than the box the world tries to put her in.
Telling her to hide her thick curls, to hate her skin.
Never taking the time to notice the way her hair bounces instead of cascades.
Or to see how her sun-kissed layers are the result of a melanin profusion embedded deep within her DNA,
Generating an inexhaustible light that never ebbs or fades.

Why can't she shine?
Despite skin imperfect, worn from years of being told "you're not worth it,"
By every insult used to inflict damage, leaving her torn—a beautiful, broken canvas.

She is...
A uniquely artistic rendition,
Never seeking validation,
From those who seek to cloud her sunny disposition.

She shines...
And the effervescence she emanates is never artificial,
For she is more than that which is superficial.
More than her skin and more than her curves,
More than layers of desire to mouths full of half-truths and empty words.

And she should...
Never let them steal her shine.
Never let them dim her glow.
Never let words break her down.
Cause she's too bright to hide in the light of another's shadow.

To shine...
I write for that woman of color because it's hard for me,
To accept things the way they are knowing the way things could be.
Or maybe it's just my fantasy of an alternate humanity,
Just some unrealistic version of a superior reality,
When we refuse to define each other solely based on our disparities.

Where skin color is a particularly fictitious peculiarity,
And we never let our love for what is different fade out into obscurity.
For adversity to diversity is really just the first stage, if we cannot reverse ways,

And realize that we are one, regardless of our birth race.