femininity
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Lady, there, sipping cappuccino
smelling sweetly of scented soap
jasmine, coconut,
lavender or vanilla.
Are you the worldly
sophisticate
avant-garde
an epitome of fashion
dazzling?
You determine my worth from the length of my skirt
You shame me for my femininty
my worth is my own, my power is my sexuality
you're afraid of the power we hold
because under all the folds you can see our strength
1. When I was a child, I thought my hair a leash, an agony, a nest for rats, so I took up my scissors to hack and slice and cut until it was gone.
Unsure eyes well with tears -
Hair donated mere hours ago.
Shorter than it has ever been,
Reflecting the fuse inside.
Pallid hands grip the vanity,
she remains hidden and alone
unexplored gold
the color of a budding marigold
aglow like a vivid citrine gemstone,
then endures a metamorphosis
she sheds like a sweet reptilian
1. The waves are thick with seaweed, soft and baubled with thread-like strands. The waves are green and glassy, tipped with bubbles of smooth white foam. The waves are roaring against the shore, powerful, pulling in and pulling back.
I am often expected to write for someone
A loved one
A best friend
The black race
girls
I can’t say yes,
or no to any of these.
His hazel soft eyes were enticing,
Flashing their way through her soul.
The feel of the valve..
A sure way to tell..!
She couldn't stop the gaze
Locked in his cage...
It was forever.
I have hair on my legs, under my arms, and on my crotch,
But I do not consider it to be any different than the hair on my head.
girl is sensual,girl likes sitting on a washing machinewith her mascara mouth openchanting something she learned in a pop song.
I am not the first to fight this legacy war,
passed down from my mother.
I have been drafted unwillingly, underage.
My dad’s friends used to tell him, “Oh, Rich, you’ll have
-Shake that-
Two simple words, their weight a sledgehammer into my confidence,
If I dance, for all to see my provocation
I will be spurned, as she was before me-
If I hide behind the curtain of modesty,
Braids, beads, medallions and box braids, she styling with weed strained leaves and I'm sniffing her powderness. With a whiff in, I'm left powerless to her weed strained weaves but she’s beautiful with and without them.
I want long pink hair.
Which point of fixation
Rests on long dances of
Keratin finishing into broken
Bonds of
Circular
Femininity.
And why does it stain my sheets?
In Ancient times there was a tale
That’s not so known to one and all,
A tale of war, a tale of hate
A tale of girls and boys and fate
