Bodies so surreal
so intricately designed.
I adore bodies –
from the spare perfection of
thin bodies –
so small as to break at a harsh gaze,
to big, bountiful bodies with rolls and curves
everywhere all the time
I am consumed by the art of the body,
the elegant thin arm outstretched,
the belly a pillow to rest on.
Necks like flower stems and tree trunks –
hair brilliant, glossy petals.
“You Look Melted and Poured”
I am melted and poured
into a sheath dress with lace overlay,
my scars making it look like a cookies and cream filling
has been poured to fit a sexy mold,
but with maybe 20 pounds too much filling –
the molding bursting at the seams.
Too often I have been too rich for my wallet
Too free for my cage
Too fat for my shell
But now I shimmy,
break open the mold
let the skin sing electric under a sunlight sick
of being filtered and blocked.
I am free.
In a bedroom deep in the jagged heat of Georgia
I am a queen and I need no molds,
cages will not hold me,
And my wallet is not the only language I speak.