my dream about being black

for Lucille Clifton

hey music and

me

only black,

hair a perfect

shade of brown

framing a nose

that gracefully claims my face

(think badu not beyonce)

and for the first time,

i have rhythm

a full set of lips

a behind to die for, hey

black me

and i’m wearing

black history

(which turns out to be recognized

only one month a year)

but there’s no future 

in those clothes

so i take them off and

wake up 

crying.