Pant. Own.

Pain and pleasure. Shackles and canvases.

Death brings darkness - do I loose life or the colors that define us.

Choice or culture. Upbringing versus vulture. Red Blood spilt on black streets, colors that intertwine far too often.

Blood Red. Black dead. My heritage so viscous that I see.

Eye. See. Color: Col(our)

An African heritage, a perpetual memory.

Beyond blindness, the US prevails. Hearts to beat, love to give.

An immigrant vision, driven by lives given - the equator from which I trudged to reach US city, colors still cause harm and pity.

Hold the line, take knee - to protest yes. momentarily rest.

Color, with pain, in peace, still stops hearts. As tint and shade unify us in the arts.

Hold close you, the bristles of war. Your traces are within me. (Life is)

Matador.