My Mane
Dear mane, I used to be ashamed to say that you’re mine
On the playground, getting harassed with questions like:
“Were you born with braids on your head?”, “How does it grow so fast?”,
Or my favorite of all, “How do you get it to feel like a loofah?”
Passing through life wondering how long the badgering would last
Then one day I heard about the natural hair movement
13-year-old me yearning to have hair like the racially ambiguous women on my screen
Only to later realize that the only woman I need to love is me and
Every strand of this coily, curly, multifaceted keratin
This poem is about:
Me
My community
Our world
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