Black*

*inspired by Nina Simone

Black is the color of my true love’92s hair

Those long strands of silk slithering round her neck,

Like a waterfall cascading down her back.

I tried to drown in her tresses

One balmy night when,

With my soul in my hand,

I dove through the wisps of her hair

And lost myself;

If I should die, I said to myself,

Let it be like this–

Quiet, unobtrusive,

Smelling of languid days and secret passions

Enveloped in the darkness of my true love’92s hair.

Gasping for air, I broke the surface

And found myself watching her peaceful sleep

In her make-believe world

She opened her eyes, and drank the full sight of me

I wanted to jump right into those dark pools

And swim there forever,

While she brushed from her face

Those errant locks of hair. But if I should live, I have no other wish

Than to always see the wind in her hair

While she, gazelle-like, runs after fireflies

Hidden in misty evenings–

Evenings as black as my true love’92s hair.