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
Copyright © Willie Wright | Year Posted 2012
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