Ode to Freedom

When I was eight or nine,

When I was a little girl with my

thick hair braided and my legs unshaven

When I was a little girl with my brown eyes abundant

with crops of thick black eyelashes

my neck was untouched by you

and all your friends

When I was eight or nine,

with my hair in cacklin’ crackin’ clackin’ rainbow beads

and pearly whites you could see from a mile down town

When I was a little girl

in the summer of ’72 with the white hot sun

burning holes into my side with my purple sun umbrella

and my too-good-for-you Mary Jane’s

my summer freckles were the only thing

planted upon my body by nature

When I was fourteen or fifteen

When I was just a little girl,

with my thick hair frayed into tangly knots

of absence of control

and my left eye swollen twice the size of my right

and my Mary Jane’s untied and scratched by a hurried fingernail

my rainbow beads pulled straight out of my baby head

and my neck now touched by you and all your friends,

you took my freedom from me.