Deciding between a wide-tooth comb and whether or not Vaseline has overpowered my use of cocoa butter is quite the investigation. If only I were to say a fairer skinned person had nothing to do with the blackest of cultures, then I might want to pinch myself because even in that the doves would cry. And on that note, we find ourselves learning to do more integrating of multiple worlds where there are no grey areas.

Some past times are better left dreamt. But though only, will it find its way back into the eyes that gleam for joy. They say memories will fade, but in some life spent, they don’t.

This odd feeling, when staring at the ceiling and there’s no rainbows or delighted pictures…when all you have is what you came into this world with…and the more you stare at this blank canvas, you begin to uproot fear and try.

Open your eyes ‘they say’, a better world awaits when there is no chase. Be that it may round trip its way to a grandiose scheme to order the mind for sell. Or leave it at the register box. Where you don’t need a mind, there’s no place of temperament.

Beach in the winter time my darling? Care to stroll your impending sincerity over my hands..or do you stand there and look with every eye of what could not be?

All falls that end won’t seem very well. There’s so much pressure to do the right thing but once you try it one time, a sentiment of peace draws you in. It’s okay to draw that stick figure again.

The moon turns a little paler when the good prevail. The rooster opens his beak a little wider when the good wails. The legend unfolds a new mystery when the good fails. What I am trying to say is, the good will only be good until Allah’s judgment wears sealant shut like mail.

There was no rule book to life, when peaking through the womb. But to imagine if the chicken or the egg came first is like asking what did you see first, the mirror or your reflection?

And so it was that the Pharaoh was tormented by flies, flees, twigs and hopping frogs. Even the quail and manner couldn’t be fooled as to who it was that they were to feed, when dropping from the chromed sky. Who in your circle is in need?

Everybody gotta go someday. So why not give this charity a time of swept-messed-flesh? Only on a lonely black road will you still find yourself flirting with a testament that you can’t give your freshest kin the next blessing-win. And why?