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Black Hooker

Possessing double-edged tongues they cut me with their cruel words
Speaking in rising tones as if within me lies a demon they’re trying to purge
Even in silence their penetrating eyes devour my self-punctured skin.
For they say a thousand things more that will make the darkest face go ashen
They sit in their comfort zones and call me names
From ho’ to tramp to the girl with no aims
They laugh and say amongst themselves

‘she’s a loose cannon that one, the hooker from the other side of the street.
I would lift my head and refuse to be beat.
I would pretend the wind swallows your shallowness.
I would avert my eyes to your needless show of justification and walk on as if I cared less.
Then I would weep in my heart for your mockery of my being. My very self is used in comparison to the ground on which you are peeing

You men!
You chastise me for my reckless life.
Yet crawl between my legs leaving behind your prim and proper wives.
You see me and pretend you’ll rather be celibate than be associated with such filth.
I hope your pc muscles overstretch with guilt.
I see your eyes glow with unconcealed desire as they fixate on my soft budding bosom.
And your hands itch to pull the string that lies in the valley of my firm bottom.
You clench your fists in anticipated glee.
But you pretend as if you don’t want me.
You fill your heads with another man’s broken dreams and philosophies and pride yourselves in being the heads;
You come to me and the first thing you yearn for, – is head
You leave your white collar jobs and pay me to make you experience multiple orgasms that will make
your starched collars go limp with drenched sweat.
Oh yeah! You like it wet
You pay me to role play
Yet in that moment of climax if your life depended on it, not a single word will you be able to say.

But you say to me “she’s a loose cannon that one, the hooker from the other side of the street.”
I would lift my head and refuse to be beat.
I would pretend the wind swallows your shallowness.
I would avert my eyes to your needless show of justification and walk on as if I cared less.
Then I would weep in my heart for your mockery of my being. My very self is used in comparison to the
ground on which you are peeing

You women!
You long to call me a whore just to prove your moral schemes.
You look at me with wary eyes; you’re like a dress with broken seams.
You’re sleeping with your best friend’s man yet you call me a whore
You brand me filth but to your own cancer you’ve found no cure
Do different standards measure sex and brand a women lost?
And leave her being a mere borehole for men to exhaust?
You fail to see the soul this body houses.
You think I wouldn’t want to be part of the “association of faithful spouses?”
This life I leave is a notch too wild.
I’m a young woman who forgot how to be a child.
If I was to wipe His feet with my stained hair He wouldn’t bear a grudge.
You’re not fit to cast the tinniest stone but you’ve appointed yourself a judge

But you say to me “she’s a loose cannon that one, the hooker from the other side of the street.”
I would lift my head and refuse to be beat.
I would pretend the wind swallows your shallowness.
I would avert my eyes to your needless show of justification and walk on as if I cared less.
And I will weep no more for I am a worthy being
For when it is all said and done you and I are on the same level ground, looking to heaven; just sightseeing.

-Ama Diaka

Discussion

One thought on “Black Hooker

  1. This is beautiful

    Posted by malota | April 6, 2012, 2:29 PM

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