poems & things
I understood the power of nudity before
I discovered my vagina.
Me and mama lay: our tattoos covered,
our breasts hanging to the side:
the same entity from different times.
My mother equipped me with weapons:
her short and full legs carry her round
and sagging breast into my memory;
planted my ability to fight without cloth
where others fall to their knees in defeat.
My mother always arose from and returned to bed
Without formal education,
black womyn have revolutionized their children.
To be so raw with oneself is threatening.