Agony and Ecstasy: Seeing God in Black Skin

Conceived of a golden, Black woman, round, voluptuous, radiant and fertile as the Nile in sensual dance with a chocolate man, mystic, indigenous, earthy, musical and oceanic; is it any wonder that true to my being, I have sought and known ritualistic confirmation, affirmation and consummation with Black women even in my puberty? Has not the Supreme Being of all flesh abundantly supplied me nutrition manifested as Black women? A Golden chalice with whom to share bread and wine? Have not all my adventures commenced from her being to her being? Has she not been a constant companion in all my encounters? Has she not been the sacred spark, the sacred fire in mine eyes? Has she not like Isis raised me from the death of my mind, my spirit, my virility, my faith, my cosmic identity as I have battled unconscious aliens who know not me? Has she not reminded me of God and my Trans-mission before I ascend the golden thread of consciousness like a successful fisherman returning to shore with his golden nets full of jewels? Every time I see a Black woman, I know there is a God.