Frida Kahlo (1907.07.06-1954.07.13)
Pussy - Brazilian Girls
this is an ad for warby parker
You bit into it a little too ripe,
hurt your teeth on the premature skin of love,
and left the fruit on the table because
you demanded beauty and they left you a test.
It doesn’t taste like you wanted it to
and you are reminded of that one
ripe nectarine you had when you were young.
You remember that your teeth slid slick under
the skin into a fleshy body and it tasted good.
It was summer and the sun warmed you.
Your mouth couldn’t contain it and juices
made your chin slippery, but you didn’t give a damn
And here you are picking through bins
at your farmers market, touching each
sweet stone fruit, smelling them and
wondering will this one
be like the last?
(aren’t you a fool for wanting to get drunk off an old fruit?)
-Cynthia J. Zapata
How has the church hurt you? How have the hands and feet slapped your fingers before asking you to place money in the bucket? How have the ambassadors led you astray, Don’t you know if you look upward, you’ll probably crash here on earth? How many times have you knelt until welts the color of deep royal purple burst open with blood. Did they put thorns in your pews. Did they spit their holy water on you demanding you change? "You aren’t seeking" "You aren’t praying hard enough" Funny, I though my silence was a prayer.
-Cynthia J. Zapata
who ever told you your tummy
rising sun curving is not beautiful and
what was their evidence?
when i see the flower petal folds of you
when i see all of your mountains
when the whole wide river of you
watermelon acorn squash handful of strawberries
in my direction the words i know for
your body are
damn, woman, you are nebulous.
look at you running lion, wings-wide crane
the nest of your thighs cradling you
soft and warm and greasy-fingered
plum-juice-chinned, salt lips and strong hips.
everyone always wants to push us into black holes
shrink us into infinities of what they can’t see
even if they tried.
don’t do it.
that’s all i’ve got to say –
— clair dunlap, nebula
Habits (Stay High) - Tove Lo
Heavenly Father - Bon Iver