That Man

I wanted to rub the ointment

into your skin but instead you asked

that man.

That man who never

Dressed your flailing body



Bowed     your hair

That man who preferred


at other young


maybe boys too who knows—

instead of watching over his kin


That man who struck me

while my belly was big as a melon—

Now you wanna hold arms

with that man

like a lady

in the park

Now you’re calling him up

Every month

To buy your



That isn’t right

to trust that man.

You know.


In some years

you’ll be out of bows and braids

Wearing another pretty dress.

And you’ll be going to buy

Your babies


like it’s properly done.

And I’ll be in my chair


Waiting for that man

who’s never gonna touch my kin.

I am sure of that.


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