To your foolish eyes --
Their reliance upon
the balance between light and shadow,
Their reflected
inverted impressions
Of my supple brown skin
The soft, subtle curves
That shape my femininity.
Your anxious eyes,
Hungry for titillation
Ignore the imperfections
That orchestrate the symphony
Of my mornings and nights;
They skip past my struggle
The broken yolk of my
Sheltered youth
The solitude of EXOTIC
My yearning to be simply beautiful
Without the asterisk*
Tell your wanton eyes --
See NIGERIAN independence
In the fullness of my lips,
My small village sentiment
Clad in New York City swag;
In the length of my legs,
Trace the royalty of my resolution;
In my passionate gaze,
My power
As a full and steady process
Bending toward a place far beyond
The lascivious intentions of your eyes.
And then, perhaps, you can have me.
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