Simile

You dont know, but you are my love.
And i dont know when we started
but you've lived, long before i caught up with you
right out' his mouth like a flying dolphin, welmed, diving into my ears as you escaped the air
Simile.
i rememeber rolling you in my tongue, kinda like i am now... rolling you in my words
See me see you as we make love simile
you dont have any idea
how much i love that moment
when i fell madly
deeply truly got you fucked up
in this bed of my tongue
with them pearly headboards

as i melted you into my sub
consciously like a knowing smile
and made love to you
smiling, i said you

"Simile, as i owe it to you, this game we played,
lovingly gamete-ly secretly i promise you
i'll name our baby after you"

"Black bitch"

Okay, it went a lil some'n like this
She got pissed, say ma girl needed to move her make-shift rover ASAP
Honked and holler'd damn near woke up the whole city
Talkin bout "Move your damn car!"
And for a minute there i thought i was seeing things
Because with all that damn anger, it was all for nothin

if you wanna get moving so bad, why de hell dont you use the next lane?

But sometimes a bitch is got to be a bitch
and sometimes bitches get confused
and sometimes they dont say the shit they mean

It aint about the damn car space
It about pure estrogen race
Miss heiffer wanted to win a battle
That really didnt matter... a simple battle for car space that isnt so simple since it ain even about car space in the first place!

So i watched as miss thang hopped out her car,
Called up her crew hoping for some wings cuz you know, chics really cant fly so when shit goes down, she be needin some backup plan

I wanted to laugh it was apparent... aint noone else drunk outta dem. They left her ass hanging as they left. May be a good idea to cut on drinking if you know you cant hold your own... especially if your crew got brains and they know they cant fight when you act all out.

So she came up to the car, bitch tried opening ma girl's car
And i thought that was cute because... i wondered what she was about to do if she had got the door open?

Not knowing that shes got me and a man in the back seats,little miss blonde almost choked when she saw me
Well, i cant help it if i look like the night. But sometimes, it aint so bad... i can just creep up on bitches whenever i want...
And just like dat, she jumped. But she jumped like she didnt because you could see her eyebrows twitching though her body wasnt moving...
And i knew the blackness got ma back cuz the whiteness in hers knew better
Immediately, i knew i didnt even have to fret so unless she is like what TV says, i got this.
And if TV is right, then we've got 4 dead bodies in the car, yeah... shot to the head and maybe butchered to pieces all thanks to yours truly...

But in this case, i couldnt be scared... well, between you and i, i'll be honest. I was, but only if she had a gun.
Otherwise i tol miss thang if she wanted to move the car so bad, then she better get around us and since she tried opening up the car door, then she better do her worst cuz the line is behind her now and shes gone too damn far.
"What was she doing? Was she tryna open your car door?"

Hell mothafuckin nAHHHH!
"tURN OFF DAT ENGINE! wE AIN GOIN NOWHERE!"

White turned even whiter as she stared me in the face. Never knew "scared-shitless" could merge so well with "anger" in one spot like it did in her eyes...

With hands jittering, i could see my girl turning the keys as the lights go off... lol we were here to stay

her crew left, i guess they knew better. Never a good idea to defend a drunken fool.

She got back in her car, and something in me wished she'd hit ours so we can get her for her insurance but "drunk" goes on vacation when it needs to... somehow, her alcohol level had decreased. Blondie knew better.

But the funniest part of the night was when she turned to me as she was driving off...
"you black bitch"
Yeah, and she drove off.
And i wanted to laugh but i couldnt because i didnt get it.

I been black for over two decades. And never once have i been reminded that i am black
Wait, did the heiffer mean to call me a "nigger"?

Because if this truly was meant to hurt me then at least, call me outta ma name...
But i couldnt think much longer because i saw her leave,scared shitless and i realised...

Little miss heiffer was scared.
Just because i am black.
And to think i wasnt gon fight her.
But see, i had a chinese chicka in the car
that woulda tore dat ass up if the blonde acted up.

Let me never know beauty, if it isnt me.

Love is blind. its true. So i love myself, blindly. I choose to remain blind and refuse whatever interfering beliefs anyone or anything might suggest. I love the baby i was. I love the girl i was. I love the lady i am. I love even much more, the woman i'll become. I admire her, that is to come of me.

I love the dark tones that demarcates the darkness of the rest of my body from the lighter tones of my palms. I love the two dimples on the back of my hips. I love my left hip thats not as curvy as the right, and the right that struggles to be noticed each time i wear a tight-fitted dress. I love my elbows that reminds me not to be forgotten everytime i dont lube them. i love my face... oh... how i love my face! Love it's cheekbones that seems to disclose my originality from miles away.i love it's skin for struggling with me, through every doubt, every trial, every single way... i love my skin. For i know i was destined to be flawed, yet you remain strong. I love the corns on my left foot. Lmao oh wow... poor thing. Having one foot thats substantially larger than the other has finally taken its toll. When i tell people i'm both a size 7.5 and 8.5, they tend to think i'm kidding. oh, left foot! You taught me a lesson in beauty. Beauty, is you.

I love the scar on my left leg. Its encouraged my memory to never forget where i've been, where i'm from, and where i want to go. I love my back. I say to my back; "Back, i tell you... if i could have your tone all over me, i'd be the darkest chocolate money cant buy". I love my butt. Oh, how i have struggled with that part of my body... till i told myself..." I want to remain struggle-free". I have the best flaws on the soles of my feet and only I can understand this when i say that that is where my favourite passtime is...

I loved the mole on my face. I miss it. I had it till last month when suddenly, it began to bleed, and after a few days, it fell off. I'll miss the days when i use to hear people say "oh, theres something on your face" and they'd go ahead and try to wipe it off as i'd reply "its a mole". lol I love my waist; my premature love handles... I love the little rotund meat at the base of my tummytomtom... and laugh i hear when people claim that i dont have a tommytomtom. I love the map on my stomach. I have a birthmark that looks like some sort of map... i should post a pic of it, just in case someone knows which country's map it resembles. I call it the "Map of Africa". I want to see how it'd look if ever i get pregnant. I love the mole under my left breast. And the fact that i dont wax my floors. I dont feel like i should be killing myself shaving my puchichi if men arent socially required to do so. I'd like to know why i should be required to shave my privates if i'm a grown woman. If a man wants to sex a child, thats his own palava. I on the other hand, am a woman. So no, i dont shave my peeweewee... i admit i do it for bathing suits and sometimes because the hair gets in the way...

I love the fact that my breasts are confrontational. They litterally, call for attention. These babies, are bold. They stand, errect, and wont accept any less... and the molten lava of blackness that mounts them... my nipples, lol well, those are in their own league. It amazes me how i can still sometimes see my nipples poping through layers of clothes and padded bras... May God be praised. I love my knees.

I love my hair. Oh, how i love my hair. Its the easiest thing to alter on me and probably the most versatile. I love that its infected me with beauty. My hair as made me love it. I love that its dark ashy brown color got me a lot of teases as a child and that its scanty soft curls still persist. I love that it never rages against me and that it forgives me, continuously. I take my hair on journeys, and it simply submits, knowing that every single one will be an adventure. Its been there through my days of nubian journeys, my years of weaves, and those days when i was lost in a sea of life's silly demands... us black girls are special for this. It takes a lot to learn to love your hair. Layers and layers of veils remain adamant that beauty isn't this. lol i tell you, one of the best features of me, crowns my head.

I love my ears that are barely there. I love that they never caused me any heartache and appreciate that. I love my neck that once needed help lol. I love my lips, my tongue for remaining in close ties with my heart and concience. I love my nose. I think thats the one thing i've never been criticised for, that i on the other hand, have criticised myself for. i love that its taught me that beauty is in the eye of the beholder. And for that reason, i have chosen to behold the beauty in it. I love my eyebrows!!! All 19 strands of hair on them lol. I love that they have taught me the art of "brow drawing".

I love my eyes and thank God for them. My 20/20vision is well appreciated. For i have seen plenty in my 20some years. Enough to thank God for. Let love be blind, let me never know beauty, if it isn't me. For i'd much rather intoxicate myself with this beauty than any other that deceives me of what true beauty is.

ITS A GIRL!!!

I was born with a defect. When Moma heard ma cry, little did she know i was far, far, far and even farther, from her hopes. She wished for a normal child. A baby that would fill the void, make every little thing right. But unfortunately, i was missing a part. I was incomplete. Her baby was born, handicapped.
But she loved me anyway, she never did give me the idea that i was incapable, different, abnormal.
But i see it in their eyes when i wake. I smell it in their stench when we love, i sense it in their tones when they speak. Lowered expectations i didnt have to hop to reach, Gawking eyes that sized my eligibility, Little subtle faith they had in my worth... none. It all reminded consistent like cock crow at the break'a fresh dawn...
yes, i am handicapped.

When Moma asked the inevitable question: "what is it?"
She heard the clumsy nurse reply: "its a girl."
Poor nurse it must have been real hard... having to announce the sad news.
Iwas born, missing a penis and a few balls.
but please, dont crusify me. I should be collecting some sort of government financial disbaility subsidy. But this disability lacks that luxury. I was born into the wrong gender. I was born a woman. I admit it, I'm missing a part. But i didnt choose! You arent any better, all you had was luck! I was chosen to be this mutant, and for that must i be punished?
Must you demand that i make your meals, that i make it right, and that i serve it too?
Must i breed your kids, help make money and love you too?
Wait a minute, lets visit this topic for a minute... Mister man, must i WANT kids? Is the essence of my life, the true reason why i breathe, the purpose of my being, to make another version of me, so that someday, "she" too, my mutant child, can slave off for yet another version of you???
And say i couldn't cook, and i was barren, then what does that make me? huh!??? A total waste of space, a food consuming engine, some sort of dispensable trash?
God, if i should ever be re-born
hope never again to be this.
And if i should ever breed,
Hope to never hear it....
"ITS A GIRL!!!"