Behind our guise of fierce independence, implacable ambition and never-ending attitude, us strong black women want to feel soft at the end of the day. We want our partner to spoil us with attention, turn our mental clock back to a time when being immature and churlish was acceptable. We want to let down our guard for once in our lives, because society’s heavy burden of black-ness isn’t looming and weighing down our shoulders like Amistad-ian shackles. We want to submit and taken over… Led and commanded sometimes… YES we do. I’ll admit…

This shiny brown skin I wear like Galahad’s shield, is only to cover me from the ills of outside, an outside that would say this skin is like an Achilles heel rather than his armor.