You have failed me

Sex sells, good girls are don’t have sex

Be pure they say to the white girl

You haven’t had sex yet… but black I see

That skin speaks to me sexually

He said.. She said.. They said... Them they ALLL said

Your blackness speaks sex to me

Speaks fluid languages of sexuality

Fuck autonomy.

 Identity

 

 I don’t want to have sex with you

Or anyone for that matter

 That shit is radical

 

You look good in that shirt

Those pants fit nice

BUT still

I don’t want none…

Not like that anyways

Don’t tell me I’m broken

 Don’t tell me you’ll fix me

 Don’t say I’ll make you like this

Try to Make me beg down and pray for you

Bow down to you

That you think your mediocre dick or tongue game will make me WEAK

At the knees

I can hardly breath when you hold my hand real nice, just right

Sooo when I tell you

 I have been admiring your aesthetic for a while now

I know the curves of your chocolaty skin

 I know you

 I listen, I care

 Deep                                 down                 

you have planted a seed in my ….heart

It’s growing

Don’t tell me when I stay up at night thinking about you and how your existence amazes me that my feelings are not worth it

That this dirt in my heart hasn’t broken for you

Been fertilized

 New for you

NO I don’t wanna have sex with you

but I need you to stay in my mind

 Flowing like petals

Long enough so I can catch you, Flatten you, Keep you

 in my book To remember you just like this

I’m not tryna go to bed with ya

 I just wanna make out in the car

Moses taught me Black skin like charcoal Sorrow stitched into your voice

Echoing reverberating through the ages catching the void space where we exist challenging the structure of romantic love and sexuality

 This world tells you to love

But you don’t have to

You are radical

They constructed our blackness

With sex Intertwined them together, Call you Black Call you Deviant Call you Wild, Call you primitive

So when I tell you being black

Not wanting or needing to have sex with you is radical

Cause this blood has fallen for the name of deviant sexuality for decades

Since its conception

That I have been bleeding now And bodies like mine

Blood tied for generations

Since white people decided they could categorize my blackness I’m taking it back

 My asexuality and blackness Are tied together like roots

They know me like dirt