Ebony and Ivory
live together in perfect harmony
and as a certain song asks
why don’t we?
Even the darkest of skin shines in white light
the lightest so too is unseen in the darkest of nights
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder
but we need light to see it crystal clear and wonderfully free
A wanting woman may adorn herself
a bride may have her attire
physical splendor prepares its way for love
yet the hand that crafts it is often forgotten of
The sculpture of chance
is this what we admire?
Or is it an endowment of love imparted
to see plainly whether black or white
that each curve breathes in each pore of life?
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