Who Is She?
Encircled by a group of guyfriends
gathered like scholars circles back in medival times,
news about a girl comes up.
Instantly, it comes down to the unconscious question:
"Is she pretty?"
("She better not be ugly.")
As though the answer
can help them trace her black eyelinings
down to her soul;
As though it can crack the code to her existence;
As though they can see through her head
and witness the sparks of her molecular brain
manifest her significance.
Or instead, they might ask: "Is she hot?"
As though they could salivate over her
like how they do with spicy papaya salad;
fetishizing her breast, legs, and thighs
like something they would order from KFC;
as though their minds can already
map out the destinations of her body.
As though that is all they need to know all about her;
As though her looks defines her humanity
(or is it them who's "looking" at her?)"
Perhaps she is the oldest daughter
working two jobs to support her family;
Perhaps she is a woman with Turner's syndrome
and as a child she's been giving names to babies she know she'll never have;
Perhaps she is an IB diploma candidate;
Perhaps she is a victim of bulimia or anoroxia,
because she feared she will judged everyday by guys like you!
Perhaps she is an artist:
A bgirl, warrior-like on the battlefield
as her fragrant body poses -----
into a chair freeze
and sends the crowd roaring!
A sculptor, her ideas build BEAUTIful structures, bigger than life
Or maybe------ she herself IS bigger than life
so big that they have to
squeeze her Being into this loaded 3 word question
the same way she is pressured to squeeze her swollen foot
into a high heel too small for her!
Stop putting her on trial
Stop studying her like you can figure her out
because you can't if that's your intention.
So... don't ask the questions
"Is she pretty?" or "Is she hot?"
Instead ask the question:
"Who is she?"
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