A black woman’s body
They manufacture parts
of a black woman’s body.
Place her under knife and chain
and watch how naturally anesthetic she is.
A dose of her melanin eludes pain, suffering,
The attraction to her otherness
has always been so intoxicating
Her soil forms the earth
making mountains, deserts
and streams places in which her
body has traveled
or been left to dry when she can’t
ward off bees for wanting to colonize
and steal her nectar.
Her body will put women under knife and pain
just to look like her
Her lips didn’t always seem so appealing
but of late they make billionaires out of lip kits
Her skin didn’t always seem so appealing
but of late makes economies
out of spray tans and tanning salons.
Her body has been hated, paraded, used and abused
It was once used to justify why black women
don’t make Vogue
but now, they are Instyle,
they are the Covergirl.
Now, they manufacture parts of a black woman’s
body and place them as crowns on others.
Florence Wanjiku is a writer, poet, and editor of Without Borders, a publication for global writers with an immigrant experience, or that have travelled and love to push their own personal boundaries. She is based out of Boston, Massachusetts. Outside of her work, she has a master’s in Education and hopes to teach and inspire others to get outside of their comfort zones and live a life beyond their borders.