The Color Black Speaks for Itself

Not obsessed with black. Another piece on the color, written from another perspective.

I don't play games. I won't make you guess. I am what you see. I am what I am.

I am the color black.

With me there is no need to speculate. There are no shades of meaning, no muddled hues, no hidden layers. I will be black in the morning sunrise, and I will be black in the moonlit night. You can count upon my consistency. I am what you see. I am what I am.

I am the color black.

I am unique. I can be many things while still remaining black. I can be stark, somber, confining, sad, dismal, repelling, gloomy. I can be elegant, shiny, sleek, debonair, ceremonial, comfortable, satisfying, sexy, accommodating, complimentary.

I can be all of those things or none of those things.

But I will still be black.

No matter how many different shades and colors there are in the crayon box, I am the only true color. I am black, pure and simple. Purely and simply, black.

I am bold, secretive, icy, steamy, depressing, stimulating, obscuring, defining; I am what I am.

I am the color black.