An Ode to My Vagina

Semen and sheesha,
sea men were drawn
Into your fire
the coal burnt them all.
You let them exploit your anatomy
before you understood your own
but you didn’t tell me the ways you felt,
about the ways the ashes fell.

No, I made you believe how it was you exploiting
Rejoicing in the veils of variety,
your walls came closing in
They weren’t half as strong as you
you aroused their walls within
Now you’re pink
and blushing, his blue balls are lushing.

Maybe tracing the pink in you
and tasting the blues of him
made pink for boys and blue for girls the norm
but nobody told you about it!
The distance of your clitoris from you,
Panged the size of their masculinity
mimicking, the ways your existence
fangs, the roach of my femininity.

Now you sit here on your wheelbarrow
letting her kiss your wheels and barrows
I trace you through the lines of your purdah
Like the men do with their guns in Syria.

She caress’ the creases of your darkness
revealing, your tenderloin limbs, wriggling
closer to her, pulling.
They stand to support you
but you fall!
She touches you the way I do
caressing your nakedness.

She kisses you the way I’d like to
The warmth of her gun follows after the swirl of her tongue,
like she shot a few before she met you
Twisting it in you,
she asks you to come.

Come with her to a land where firestones ignite a lade,
where they don’t spread you to see the sweat trickling down,
the arch of your behind.
You are explosive in her hands
You swell like diamonds studded in the mine
She tastes your tears goodbye
She likes the sound of your cries
She stops to see,
how my lips parch, when rains fall out of your skies!

We are all pieces of your anatomy here
They always shut me up to play with you there
Turning me around to fix you
They hold me tight to kiss me
turning you against me
Strands of my hair fall out of one of his fists
The fingers of the other numbs my breasts
Till he finds you.

Stinging you in circular motion,
like bees mimicking tornados in the ocean.
I am their thanksgiving dinner
only to feed the bones to the dogs for supper
But they keep you, devour you
because you have no bones, they flower you.

There is always a mirror above the sink though,
And its always transparent,
And I see you in your raged clothes of skin,
Lying on the table.
Them spreading you akin
A sweat trickling down you
Your vixen leads her flock to hound you.


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