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This is a guest posting from my colleague and friend, Jason Crawford. Jason is a senior in the CRTW program at Eastern Michigan University. 

Colors of Green chase Yellow, Orange and Red.

Their eternal game of tag never ceases,

Running through their fields of lengthy grass,

The bright sun beating down over their juicy tangerines andcrisp apples.

Our sharp silhouettes edges connect their slippery smooth curves.

Endless lines that set in the horizon, off behind monstrous mountains.

Soft stone faces close their lemon shaped eyes.

See no evil yet African lips can tell all seen within the frames of plantation’s green fields

Her golden leaf hangs from her invisible ear as if to be free falling.

Flat and unpacked lay her arm, still lifeless forms of Afro-centric energy

It’s long bony fingers reach out to warm me.

She is connected unlike I,

Who knows very little of this world.

My round sharp body mimics my mothers,

We have become one,

Separated at birth.

The endless movement of our lives continue of the blank canvas,

Crafting the sculpture of David and the Centaur,

We live.

Yet here we are,

freeze framed in art.

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