History dressed up in the glow of love’s kiss turned grief into beauty.

At one end of the continuum known as history are first-time events that have generated notable measures of public recognition due to either a positive or negative impact.

Dreams dress us carefully in the colors of power and faith.

This rose of pearl-coated infinity transforms the diseased slums of a broken heart into a palace made of psalms and gold.

I place my fingers upon these keys typing 2,000 dreams per minute and naked of spirit dance forth my cosmic vortex upon this crucifix called language.

Trayvon Martin, at the most, seems only to have been guilty of being himself.

With my ninth mind I resurrect my first and dance slow to the music of my soul made new.