A Poem to the Fetishizing White Boys

The bodies of black women do not incorporate the majestic thing that is a mind—

that is a brain—

that is a thought.

The bodies of black women are separated from what makes us human

Our physiques are contextually limited to what lies below our heads

As if my breast are somehow land for your further exploitation.

The bodies of black women are heard but our speech is silenced—

Why does my body speak for me as if my voice is stolen

As if, somehow, my verbal articulation isn’t conducive to your ignorant conversation?

The bodies of black women are desired by all, yet undesirable to all –

for the skin that encloses my breast, that covers my rounded thighs, and protects my busty hips—

is too dark.

The skin is simply too dark