From Mali to the darkest Asian caste and around the exotic South American mass, black has always been beautiful. As the first originator, the pedestal was set while flocks died & murdered to replicate our curves, our kinks, our strength, healings, teachings, preachings and the way in which our skin sparkles in the sun. We are the sand that separates from the rolling sea, sprinkled across the world. We were divided but our feet still pave the way to greatness. We stand with our chest towering over fear, searing into our future. Forever grounded, rooted, like the tree of life breathing oxygen. Who dares say we aren't? Brown eggs secured in the brown womb yet to be born just to fulfill our cycle of greatness. And no box of skin lightener on a beauty supply shelf is going to stop this world from producing blacker decades. Each generation follows suit to what is already designed, becoming that once golden Mali. My black will always be beautiful.