Black as it is in color

past-gone and farm-viewed nights so dark blue eventually. pupils. tree bark sometimes. car tires and their skid marks. voids. pre-genesis, pre-void oxymoronically. depths of oceans. the tops of trees. burnt roaches. burnt toast eventually. my man and his designated waitress at waffle house. centers of sunflowers. bee and zebra stripes. eastern gray squirrels so dark gray eventually. the eyes of deer and their hooves. enough blood. not quite my mother's hair; that's 1B actually.

Black as it is in nature

no streetlamps: animals appear bone-bleached white against car lights and trees a pale gray, swampwater a mirror, spanish moss the heads of bodies, the road an asphalt abyss of black starless holes. how many infinities are there? the armadillos moving rocks and the moon escaping amongst the tears of god in the sky. the haunt and exhilaration of night follows us until the pink dawn.

Black as it is in existentialism

being once a forest, mixing roots, shucked into wood, rudely now furniture, petrified into stillness. stuck between death and living usage. becoming malleable and unchangeable. marked. shielded. vengeance is always sevenfold. human and sweet. the toilers and waymakers, my mothers, my god.

Black as it is in superstition

as kids, we watched frogs suicide-hop to their startling drowning deaths. summers we spent releasing frogs and holding the white pink underbelly against our pink white palms. sleek dark frogs laying against expanses: bucket bottoms, sandboxes, the barren ground under swings. and, surprisingly, white concrete, floating on their backs as we did in our floaties. until caught up in the netting of the poolman, into the trash bin coffin and us, our daddy, his arms. so we'd sigh—"these frogs"—and manhandled them free, make a wish for luck like grandma taught us, and let them go.

Black as it is spiritually

saving the third rinse of rice water in my fridge for guests, practices of gratitude. 14k gold for the babies and other money rituals. grandmas in sunday best, the brides of god. choirs and praising, kids singing psalms and winter plays. food in the basement and long-winded blessings preluded by "this wouldn't be long so the food don't get cold," a proven curse. babies crying in the back, powdery perfume and purse candy. cigars, brandy, button down suits and brown oxfords; saying "miss", blowing smoke, soldiers of the lord. blessing and being blessed.