I let my body be a metaphor to a white boy who knows zero about poetry,
His fingers stretching the words on my flesh and turning them dirty.
I lend him the verses between my thighs and he promises he reads sometimes, quotes and what not.

I left my body in living room as a spoil of war for the battle of one night stands,
His friends giggle at his kill
They raise a toast to the black girl, big boobs, plump lips, juicy ebony hymn.
They sing praises to the gods of lust and I let them admire his strength to will me into his bed, I let them see me drained and broken and applaud.

I left my body with a girl with septum piercings and blue eyes,
Her mother says the hunt was...