A Black Love

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A kaleidoscope,

rests on my knees,
while I eat pumpkin bread.

I am hungered,
the shells in my bread-
fall with a clatter.

I thus examine the seedling,
for never did I eat pumpkin,
with seeds in it.

But the kaleidoscope glitters,
sparkling, I place a hand,
shoving away the brightness. 

A cold tingling follows,
coursing throughout my blood-
gently I pick up the kaleidoscope.

You extend a soft pale hand,
so baby in softness . . .
like a dandy.

I turn away,
my eyes malevolent in their-
why, why must you give me,
such color,
your eyes so varied a spectrum.

Clouds do I see,
their pure white,
rain,
a deep, loving blue,
I want so much to swim in ~

But when blackened,
they are truly marvelous.

In your kaleidoscope,
I walk proudly with the blackness,
for who could ever own a man,
with eyes a sparkling, rushing black?
Black a voluptuous,
black angry,
black sparkles,
shatters,
as I hit the floor.

Black all around me! 

Your kaleidoscope has turned-

black!

The trees in a black forest,
are your hands and arms.

I once was proud,
love,
to know you had, a darkness,
for so well did our flights, rest with us . . .
we kissed so easily . . .
then the blue came out,
as did our warmth,
enshroud us.

Your eyes turned fiery,
and all of our loving,
a bright, red yellow rainbow,
and did once exalt,
and you put your arms around me.

Now, I am only in the dark. 

I throw the kaleidoscope away roughly. 

“No more,” I whisper.

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