I love black men. I love men in general *insert eggplant emoji*, I got issues haha *inserts cocktail emoji*- but there’s something about a black man that had me sitting in my sofa getting all fuzzy and proud about. This isn’t about a boyfriend, it’s just a quick thought that made me reassess my choice in men.
I love black men.
I love their dominance in a room, their stance, their authority, the confidence they exude.
I love a black man.
I love the control in them, the endurance to keep getting back up, the ideas flowing through them, the glimmer of security in their eyes.
I love this black man.
I love the power he holds, the regal feeling in his shoulders, the trust in his voice, the image his cologne portrays.
I love these black men.
I love the kings that do their fatherly duty, to love and nurture their child(ren) from up close, to put their child(ren) in their mission statement of life, to uphold and love their queen.
I love a black man that loves God.
I love the one who communes with ABBA, I love the one that prays and slays, I respect the one that holds God in high esteem that he would trust in God more than he trusts in me.