Girls and women paint themselves,
Deserving of praise for what abundance they represent-
The earth songs their heels sing, step upon step,
And the flowers in their hair
The vibrant, dying crowns they place
Upon their heads,
Minds of mystery inside, deep dwelling.
You’ll meet many, and more
Blossom plaited,
With mouths and lashes brimming with tales of riches:
Playful lilac-heady armpits await for secret kisses,
Flat bellies full of promises,
Round, even eyes blink easy with salty tears for your grave
A future,
A name shared-
Stretchmarks earned, blessed with oils and none of your concern.
You could fold into any of their embraces.
And who wouldn’t be happy for your soft landing?
Kaitlin Sansoucie 