she calls it love
my type of feminism is like my mother’s
she greets my father every evening
half way at the door
my type of feminism is like my mother’s
she greets my father every evening
half way at the door
we would have
believed better
if growing up
my great grandmother
married at eight
my grandmother…
if your daughter
comes home
running from school…
some of us grew up
where every money
our parents made were…
this heart is under
maintenance
to prevent the process…
at twenty7
i will be a wild something
what is sunshine…
i don’t fall in love easily
my heart is too daring
i am afraid of the sacrifices
/something i didn’t tell my mother
that there was a boy
in my neighbourhood
someday when i am no more i want my works to wear a tuxedo or prada, get a first class ticket and travel all the way to the caribbean for a vacation making love to her taste buds with a glass of margarita i want her whoever she will be to stretch …