“What is your favorite color?” “Black,” Baize answered. Oliver lifted an eyebrow as he leaned back in his chair. “Black is not a color. It’s actually the absence of color,” he said. “Every color has its own wavelength. Black nor white have a specific one.” Baize stared at him for a moment.  “Thanks for the ...

I am my sistah and she is me I am African Caribbean Latin American BLACK I am she and she is me.

The Beige Woman, a color poem, is Adriana Philips' personal tale of living as a mixed-race woman. Can you love yourself in your own skin?

Black like me but – don’t think like me We look alike but – we don’t function alike Survival 101 is not a class taught to Black Americans   Trying to make a home in the white man’s land so use to being puppeteered by the master’s hand not able to reason when given the ...

Firm hands steady anxious hips with moist lips awaiting quivering kisses   Press your face against my lace and let my body sing   Precision with little hesitation sets the disposition   Insatiable craving yet slightly moistened anticipating powerful rumbling   Passion rips through her quietness, allowing soft purrs to escape moist lips   Press ...

Black Dalmatian spots, Kitty cats. Santa’s boots, Old top hats.   A hockey puck, A button nose. A spring bear cub, A fire hose.   Karate belt, Midnight sky. Leather jacket, Berry pie.   A garden spider, A jelly bean. A tire swing, An African Queen. Black

Along with tens of thousands of other Activists across the country, I attended my local Women’s March on Saturday, January 20, 2018. Women, men, and children from all walks of life were there, donning their pink, “pussy” hats, while exercising their first amendment rights. They came using canes. They came riding in strollers. They came ...