What Am I?

What am I?

When you look at me, what am I to you?

A mix of colors intertwined to create the being that presides, the individual you can’t seem to identify.

Am I a Black, the foulest type of thing to be, the type of people that are categorized as vile and shameless, is this what defines me?

Am I a Negra, a functional woman struggling to ascertain prosperity?

Am I Bartonesque, one unable to describe because its grotesque in nature, scientific, a project worth studying…exotic to the human eye because the mind cannot fathom nor define the unfamiliarity of perfection prevailing.

What am I?

When I look at me, what am I to me?

The fusion of beauty, thirst, and ardor…my skin dipped in a golden cream consecrated with the diamonds of melanin. My curls coiled tight from the history of my ancestors. My lips natural plump, indulgent inclines that troupe choruses of confident influence to empower my public.

I am Black, blessed by God, given His most worthy magic to be a warrior on this earth overcoming the transgressions casted on me by the ideals fostered of this people.

I am Reina, sovereign of my auspicious destiny.

I am Mona Lisa, an artistic masterpiece radiating with the cultivated wisdom ensued from the awakening of experience, vibrant shades invigorating my canvas.