The Vagina Awoke
Brown canvas. Black round stories.
His nails dug holes in my stories.
Numb. She let him.
I didn’t want fingers lathered in lies fondling my pages.
But she. She was numb.
High. Sippin’ on what they served.
But she. She drank. She was numb.
So he painted that brown canvas
A pale green script of lies
Groomed to mature into orange truths.
How do you play dead in a plain of life?
How does beauty captured in a mirror belong to them and
him?
I’d fuckin’ had it.
So I peeled off orange corners
Painted over green lies
Painted a kaleidoscope of warmth
I kissed it to life with lips of definition
I drew the curves of a breathing Vagina.
One that speaks and owns.
And she woke up.
Turns out she’d fuckin’ had it too.
Adelle
