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Poems - Role Reversal

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Role Reversal

by plasticity

My hair is long
Silky like black
Japaneses bondage rope
wrapped around my throat.



My skin pale like an empty
piece of paper
anxiously awaiting the sudden
splatter of ink.

My eyes are the chains
that bind me to the solid
headboard of circumstance.

My mind a crop whipping
through the air
ready to meet the back bone
of assumption.

My legs covered in black patent leather
with heels that enable me
to break through glass ceilings.

My skirt short and bright
like the blood from a pricked finger.
My ass as juicy as a peach
freshly picked from the trees
of raw power and lust.

I stride down the street
empowered by the Spirits of Ishtar and Isis.
Never scared by the creatures
of blind presumptions.

"No I am not a whore"
I say to the rich suit
who lies in his luxurious bed
with a smile of confidence
as if he is with holding a secret from me.

But I know what he is thinking
the shorter my skirt the easier to penetrate.

But the length of my skirt
the height and flash of my boots
The silky black hair and porcelain skin
are not an advertisement.

It's a statement of my self confidence
and my freedom of choice
Not an invitation to gawk at me
like a peacock in a cage
Or hunt me like a helpless doe
so you could gut me of my integrity
and display me on your wall of accomplishments.


I am not a whore.

I am a woman.





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by Anonymous on Wednesday, December 31, 1969 (20:00:00)


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  Added on: 18-Aug-2010 | Hits: 362 | Full author copyright - Exclusive Right held by author.



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