I’m a Renaissance woman – 

Curved and soft

Draped in fabric

Reclining on clouds 

Peeking down shyly

 at the Earth below me. 

My canvas is smooth

And rough with coats

Of oil paints, getting the nose

Covering bruises and bites. 

So lovely and full

No sharp lines or bones

The goddess of beauty incarnate.

I’m a modern woman – 

My bony hips jab into your skin

As I ride you and bite my lip. 

I post on the gram

As I twist myself smaller

Filtering, shaping, covering up.

Glancing through windows 

Of rectangular-shaped realities.

Scrolling and scrolling, 

Forever scrolling. 

Looking for the next thing. 

My skin is angry,

We cover the outcries

With painted on smiles

Luscious, red lips

Tiny waist, big ass, small thighs

Everything just right.

You wanna be something?

Let yourself be captured.

In lenses, paintings, poems,

Illusions, and traps

Do we exist to be savored

Or just looked at?

I’m just a woman – 

With a body that holds

My soul down on this Earth.

I’m just a woman –

Lovely and dirty, empty and full 

Incapable of being captured

And too much to be savored



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