MY SALARY ISN'T PRETTY

My salary isn't pretty My choice, a tuk-tuk, not a Rolls-Royce Neither extended eyelashes nor done nails A God-made light skin, short natural braids My salary isn't pretty When I am riding on the top I'm always prepared when asked to stop No moaning, I'll be gentle and go slower Only go harder when asked to go faster My salary isn't pretty "What do you think," "I think it's a good idea," Are my only masculine words "You're right", "I was wrong", "I'm sorry" Are my only warring swords. My salary isn’t pretty I speak only when spoken to Hands always busy Filling the quiet spaces with chores Even when no one’s asked.