Dear Black Girl
You are not what is fed to you by your history books,
Nor the misogynistic mannequin manifested by modern rap manifestos—
Black girl, you are the paragon of virtue; the dust rising from the broken kola nut.
The elders crying lamentations, their libations spiraling to ancestral inspirations…
Black girl, do not question yourself—do not look down!
Do not bleach your skin,
for the most beautiful stars are set against the fabric of a midnight sky.
Do not doubt your beauty, because of the display of Barbies that surround you.
Do not let the plastered photo-shopped images on magazines lead you to self-hate.
Black girl, do not cut or straighten your hair.
Let it grow out towards the heavens, to praise the God who made you with such aesthetic precision;
Black girl, you are perfection!
Black girl, bow down before the ones that came before you!
The matriarchal masters of modern masterpieces,
you are the descendant of leaders: women that brought down nations with their lips, suffocated princes with their hips
Black girl, stand tall. Look up.
You are the daughter of Nefertiti, the sister of Cleopatra,
Black girl, remember that they cannot take away your determination
They cannot bend your spine if it is made of steel.
Dear Black Girl,
You are magic.
You are a queen. So go on and conquer.