I will scrape my stiletto heels across the hot skin of your heart.
I will tear you apart with my words,
My curves with eat away at your nervous system
with a hypnotic rhythm I will move you

The fact that these teeth are coming in,
Isn’t a sin.
Biting back words I’ve held within my stomach,
Turning, bulging with an acidic bubble. I was deemed trouble
from the womb.
So give me some
Elbow room while I explain to you
I am not the discarded fragment contrived from the rib of Adam.
My mouth may touch the outskirts of lust
but I am hungry for more than your orchard.

And we eat and we eat from these forbidden forms,
words twisted, but when mixed it shape the outlining of my thought and form.
Spun from the mouth and pattern of those before,
molded of some fire,
molten desire to dispel misconceptions
we live to relearn.
Our actions echo the past of women overseas forced knee to knee
with blood dripping from wounds underneath.
Virginity is the sweetest when it’s with a fee.
So we call it Genital Mutilation with our Western Drawl,
like we’ve seen it all,
After all, we got the same shit happening in L.A. malls.
Surgeons tucking our nips, tits, clits and labia’s,
Tattooed make up marks, in the hopes at the most we will replicate
some fake porn star.
with our nerve damage and vulva scars,
the lack that we implant may lead to heart attack,
but the results are best by far.
We are training our daughter’s bodies to burn,
the fat, the past, and any desire resting underneath blistered words.
We are hollow, yearning, at the center of a core
that’s been purged, cleared out into this concave shell
of repentance and discomfiture of womanly urge.
The war on women’s bodies has blistered all but the teeth that clutch
against anguish of a secondary worth.
So don’t tell me to wait my turn, hold my cry,
and close my eyes while your sin is done.
Tell me your God favored Adam over Eve’s serpent tongue,
I’ll tell you a woman is only measured by the amount of apples she can earn.