Can’t You See?: To my Brothas that spit on my Black Womanness

by Kira-Lynae

already has this body been fleshed in brown glory

so my bones do not yearn to be swathed in the ugly of your misogyny

and these breasts were not sculpted to milk your dry tongue that is so wrought with life’s lies


they protrude as testament to the strength living in my chest

and these legs

these legs that color giraffes in jealousy shall forever strut to rhythms that welcome them

for they prove sluggish when trailing 100 feet behind your azure kaftan and erect fist

my Black Womanness is majesty

I am the night as its sweetest hour
I am the sun when it is ripe with bold hues of yellow
I am the faint whistle of the wind kissing your ear

like you I am majesty Brotha

can’t you see?

Photo: Shutterstock