EXPECTATIONS

I am 20 going on 30.
In a decade I did hope
I’ll be bearing a man’s signature:
A cycle of torture
Or a bond of pleasure
His name tattooed between the
Two dimple on my buttocks
Looking down the cracks
Where he would fall
If the devil possess
Him to ever raise his hands.

I did hope for four tiny feet
Mouths open to the heavens
Like baby chicks
pretty and strong
Each to its own.

I did hope
I’ll be the boss lady
Rocking the biz world like Jaga.
Shitting on bank rolls
And rolling up the dough.

I did hope I’ll remember
Who I am and not live
Through people’s eyes.

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