I am Black

I am a mysterious and  proud color although, scientifically I am not a color at all, I absorb all color and reflect none. I am often considered an achromatic color, I am steeped in superstition. Ambiguous symbolism attaches itself to me. In the old West I represented the villain, wearing a black hat and riding a black horse, and in cartoons the dastardly landlord tying the maiden to the train tracks. I am used to mystify the unknown as with secret societies and occult religious groups. I am the color of attire and veils worn to signify mourning the death of  loved ones. I am the color of the grim reaper, I  represent Halloween, witches, and I am a moonless sky. I represent evil, the tough, the criminal factions yet in contrast I am quality, I am the focus of a black tie affair, the prestige of the black limousine. I am as sensual as black lingerie, or I can be the color of clouds looming over a parched field teasing a promise of rain. I am as unlucky as a black cat sitting under a ladder on Friday the thirteenth for some or as important as the little black dress one could hardly be without in ones closet. My jobs are many perhaps as many as the colors I keep hidden away, I am mystery, I am Black.