On why men should know the price of my beauty

I have been thinking about my body,
how it looks beside someone else’s skin
I think about people telling me                                                                                                                                 how smooth my skin is as I rub my breasts                                                                                                                                                                                                                             in circles with lotion for the second time of the day
I have been wanting to turn my skin into milk                                                                                                                                                                   fresh and white and sweet that men would                                                                                                                                                                                                                         want to drink the very last ounce of me
the same skin I wanted to shed off for years
my soul wanting to crawl out of this shell                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                   and possess the next most beautiful thing I see

I have been thinking about my body                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                        and how it would look like without the grasses                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                  of hair that continues to grow unwanted
I can feel them rough and just newly born                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         and I condemn each one of them                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                    along with all their mothers                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         who lived and grew before them
I let the light burn them                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                   and curse each tingling sensation                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                    as I pray to the gods of fire that                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                            they may never see the light of day again

I have been thinking about my body                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           and wonder what the mirrors whisper to each other                                                                                                                                           when they see me and I am curious to know                                                                                                                                                                             do they hear the growls my stomach makes                                                                                                                                                                when I refuse to hear its yearning as my spirit                                                                                                                                                                                               demands for a smaller space to live in
I feel the temple that I have built becoming hefty                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                 but saggy and I have been looking at
the sacs of fat that cling to my every inch                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                            and I think of the men who told me                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                        I should lose weight as their cracked lips                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                             sucked my pumped and brown nipples                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           like an infant holding on for its dear life

I have been thinking about my body                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                             and the face that it carries everyday                                                                                                                                                           fair and soft in calloused hands                                                                                                                                                            that have tried to hold it                                                                                                                                                                      and I think of all the tongues                                                                                                                                                                 that have forced themselves down my mouth                                                                                                                                                                                  hungry and angry and always asking for more then                                                                                                                                              

I pick up the razor                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                       and I allow my pale face be damned with blood                                                                                                                                                                                     and I laugh
and I put on my red lipstick                                                                                    and I wait for men to worship me.