fuck me, daddy: dirty poems from my black ass — part 1
I typed out a really long, intricate introduction, but fuck my life, I accidentally erased it. Maybe it’s a sign, considering I’d just uttered a prayer to God begging him to please let it not be the weed doing the writing…
This series is dedicated to all the black girls coming of age in a world that devalues their bodies and disregards their sexualities. It’s dedicated to all the black women, of all stripes and sexual orientations, who just want their wants to manifest; to have their desires considered and valued. All my femmes, I see you.
This is dedicated to all the women, femmes, and girls who were told to feel shame for wanting to explore their bodies and pleasures, while the boys got patted on their backs.
This series is definitely dedicated to adolescent me who felt ashamed for her hormones being hormones and asked God for forgiveness every time she touched herself in the shower (…or masturbated in general).
Besides, I just want to get this shit off of my chest…
Photos courtesy of Marilyn Minter and FOX TV.
Padre Tomas (Bless Me, Papi…)
Forgive me, Padre, for I have sinned.
(Papi…)
And if you put your hands
all over me
(to bless me),
I’ll most likely sin again.
There.
Are.
Monsters.
Inside.
Me.
(I want you inside of me…)
They’re lusty and perverse.
An ocean of holy water
couldn’t quench this damnable thirst.
The only blessing I want is power.
You anointed me with prurience…
I’d receive your salve on my knees.
Hunger (Feed Me)
The juice…
The juice from your peach
was sticky,
and warm as it dried
on my face.
Feed me…
It’s your produce I crave.
The sweetest of berries:
A metaphor for you.
Bittersweet juice
rolls down my chin
and settles
in the dark chasm
between fertile mounds.
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