I apologized to my body-
That’s where the healing began.
I loved her.
Roll by roll we were transformed into
An ode to the wiggle.
My own hands began to melt, play
Hide and seek
Among the dimples on my cheeks.
The Worship I was pawning for
Was no longer folklore
Peaches blossomed
Until everything Black tasted sweet.
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Femme Noir 
1 thought on “Peaches and Sweet Rolls”