Black Girl Kitchen

Juicy curls fall in perfect spirals.

They dance in our black girl kitchen.

They flip like fluffy pancakes in the summertime.

I cherish my pineapple though she may be small.

She is growing.

I water her roots and ends.

Watch us wash and go. We are a garden Come and pick our fruit. We bare forbidden apple trees. Many eves dust our branches. All the Adams came rushing Soon as the cherry broke Soon as my bush started burning I think men thought they were gardeners Plucking weeds from my roots Putting shit around to fertilize me All these Adams got my eves fucked up. I'm a warrior princess.

My fingers naturally curve like gang signs into a fist.

I'm a political statement in my hood.

Strangers smell my freedom but don't see my stars in the flag.

My Afro taste good during the struggle Split ends & roots.

Disconnected from my ends & roots.

No Playstation but she always on fight mode.

Because she has to be.

Because no one else will

Because she's black

and a little less forgiving

but a little more frighting

- Schanora Wimpie