Dec
13
I relearn how to press my body
against other bodies. My slick flesh
like scales, like fish tail, hums across
men’s spines during autumn afternoons.
I teach my mouth words like sunshine,
cupcake. The mouth, once a fist,
now can’t help but smile when it wags
out these glittery promises.
My legs remember how to braid
themselves in with other legs,
hairy and sometimes freckled,
that like the gloss of my calves. Jenny Sadre-Orafai, Other Bodies (via grammatolatry)
against other bodies. My slick flesh
like scales, like fish tail, hums across
men’s spines during autumn afternoons.
I teach my mouth words like sunshine,
cupcake. The mouth, once a fist,
now can’t help but smile when it wags
out these glittery promises.
My legs remember how to braid
themselves in with other legs,
hairy and sometimes freckled,
that like the gloss of my calves. Jenny Sadre-Orafai, Other Bodies (via grammatolatry)
(via grammatolatry)