The Blackness of My Blackness resides in the corner of my being. It is sealed, with no air and no light to allow it to grow. It is covered tight and it will not leak, even with the heaviest weight thrown down upon it. My blackness used to scream and thrash in its small and confined corner, but now, its collapses, laying down flat, breathing hard. The blackness of my blackness used to be alive, but as I learn, it dies.
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