I knew this when I was a child, watching the women in my life glide across rooms in beautiful colors, dancing in bare feet, hollering so the neighbors could hear and join in the laughter; in salons, in church, on the stoop, at the movies (being shushed), and all over the corners of my life. Growing up, I received many messages that this truth was dead wrong and I struggled to believe that the beauty I saw in the women in my sphere could also apply to me. And when I did believe, I was able to embody it at last.
We are Seeds
Accept that you are a beautiful thing
The kind of creature only poetry can convey
And when you transcend from this world
And into the next
Your skin will still be the color of earth
Your eyes the color of mountains
Your hair the fabric of grain
Your heart the cradle of children
And your womb the soul of the world
when they try to jail your mind and
hide this precious knowing from reaching your feet
you live half a life with half your staff
We are the seeds of the ancestors
Beat back the strangling envy
its ignorance and irreverence
Mon cher, they want to love you
but would rather battle this need
than be buried in its treasure
-qv
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