ADRIANNA ZAPATA - POEMS
Who else can be me, with hair that coils from my head,
Each strand strong, and coarse, a helmet to my mind
Each springing curl bouncing back those who don’t recognize
It’s greatness. My helmet is glossy, moisturized and impenetrable.
And my eyes, almond shaped, brown like the giving earth,
Eyes that squint with smiles,
Eyes called beautiful, eyes called hypnotizing under a canopy bed
Or forgiving and loving, its depths showing empathy.
My lips I’m told, were sculpted by Venus
Lips that bruise after giving too much
Painted a deep rose pink, and when my lips opened,
Intelligence poured out from its depths.
And my hips, hips one day that will bear infants,
Hips that that twist and turn and dip in dance,
Hips from my mother, and my mother's mother,
Hips that branch to thighs, strong enough to stand its ground.
Who can say, but me, that her skin can appear exposed
yet beneath my soft barrier, is a chain mail armor
To protect from arrows shot by worthless men who
Would never compare to me.
Words I Wished My Mother Said