Mixed Fruit

Mixed Fruit From the brutality of birth a baby is born A unique combination of heritage is created By two who were star-crossed Ferocious in spirit; she kicks and screams Announcing her inherited suffering With cries from ancient spirits Her almond eyes are those of my ancestors: calm and curious. Her thick curly and untamed hair radiates with strength and confidence Every strand delicate as the leaves of her native Bonsai Her Facial features are sculpted from genes from the Far East Graceful are her hands that search the air for security Dancing delicately in a world of dreams Her soul is encased by a fragile film of flesh—smooth as oriental silk It is a beautiful bamboo brown achievable only through nature Elegance stalks her all the way to womanhood She is naturally seductive; with an appetite for lust Her body demands pleasure. In the dark her movements are those of my ancestors A rhythmic rock that cannot be duplicated She is dedicated to her performance Pleasing her prince with perfected positions Creating climatic conclusions to her sexual expression She is an Asian cuisine with the African roots from those of my ancestors