A way of black

I see
a gold cross,
standing tall,
shiny,
brilliant.

And i see
black.

Black dresses.
Black pants.
Black shoes.
Black bibles.

Black is my favorite color.
Jackson asked me about it one time.

"Ava, why don't you like pink?
Or yellow?
Or blue?"

"I love black," I said.
"It suits me."

"I suit you," he said.

And then he kissed me.

I'm not sure
I love black
anymore.

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