a woman
of God
I try
to be
but sin
is in
the air
as much
as salt
ia in
sea
my lust
licks
the heart
of my
lips
there are
body parts
I am blind
of
the shame
of being
thirty five
and never
know the
touch of
a man
drawing
a map
of the
world
on my back
with his finger
in my sweat
the arch
of it
when his hand
casually marks
Africa
A woman of God,
I am not
But a woman,
a tender lover
my head folding
into his neck
as if the angles
had been calculated
exactly, beforehand
I am earless
in the face
of the battlefield
that every woman
crosses, every day
I am clever
a devourer of booka,
article, savagely attacking
tainted tabloid trash
I am a Godless woman,
but a thousand times more
a woman than God could make me
Feb 2, 2019
Feb 2, 2019 at 12:44 PM UTC
a woman
of God
I try
to be
but sin
is in
the air
as much
as salt
ia in
sea
my lust
licks
the heart
of my
lips
there are
body parts
I am blind
of
the shame
of being
thirty five
and never
know the
touch of
a man
drawing
a map
of the
world
on my back
with his finger
in my sweat
the arch
of it
when his hand
casually marks
Africa
A woman of God,
I am not
But a woman,
a tender lover
my head folding
into his neck
as if the angles
had been calculated
exactly, beforehand
I am earless
in the face
of the battlefield
that every woman
crosses, every day
I am clever
a devourer of booka,
article, savagely attacking
tainted tabloid trash
I am a Godless woman,
but a thousand times more
a woman than God could make me
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