Black people are like trees.
We grow toward the sun, our hair like leaves.
Our browns, blacks, and light like the bark on the majestic natural things, branches are erected, making love through the beezniz of creating buds blooming, stretching, farther from their roots.
One can’t get farther without the other.
What is a branch to the roots of a tree?
What are the roots of a tree without branches?
Know thy self.