Aphrodite in a Pink Box

Cadence Collective: Long Beach Poets

offering 4

By Sarah Davis

Digitized remnants of melanin vacant skin
monopolize the magazines my daughter studies.
The Bluest Eye cradles her,
convinces her that her raven features are deficient.

Kenneth Clark’s dolls scold her.
Tell her to be alabaster,
achromatic, immaculate, pure.
As if her hide is contaminated.

She transforms into a stained version
of the girl with the dream house,
pink convertible, pliable positions with
exploitable curves.

She sharpens her nose, lightens her eyes,
varnishes her skin with pale wishes.
The beauty microcosm straps her to the rack,
shapes her physiognomy, sucks out her roots.

I kiss her forehead,
Tell her she’s my cosmos
as she locks herself away
in a pretty pink box.

View original post

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s