photo by: kwesi abbensetts
that week she hated
poem five
she will never understand the importance of the happenings between her upper thighs
he has no clue how to teach her
after all it's none of his business
just an interest
a pass time
some girl that smelled of roti and callaloo and grown woman's dresser scents
some girl he'd love for three weeks at a time
and it all becomes biblical again
when i see the blood
i will pass you over
