Zyen Smoot
I Fantasize
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I fantasize, dreamy desires of warmth
I fantasize, darks hands danced danced
and pranced with me
In a living room with open doors
I fantasize, love as sweet as the smell of your lotion
Smooth and leaving a shine so intoxicating
I fantasize, about how good it is
4C Hair
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Diaspora roots
Mirror bushes, mirror trees
Brown like bark, like skin
“You Are My Dream”
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There is something that I would like to say. Something that desires me to give greetings of gratitude.
Today I realized how beautiful I was after looking at a locked-down mirror. With fresh eye boogers and the silkiest bonnet, my sister could find on Amazon I finally saw what others desired in me. Some fantasized, of course, of what they could do with me surrounded by these pink walls.
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And yearly yearnings of random messages from frustrating flings folding at the sight of me, I decided to entertain the thought of being with each of them. A bachelorette in training for the next season of She’s Gotta Have It. Yet, before I finished admiring myself my nose circulated a familiar smell of a Dora The Explorer 3.99 lotion. A young girl with sticky fingers of insecurities stared at me.
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She said,
A Tribute to Myself
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Turbans tied, circled sativa laced eyes
Manila moisturized against my skin
Diasporic southern-creole voices
Caught in the swirl of my hair growing up
Bounced and echoed my jewelry going down
Spiraled around my arms lifting forward
Smothered and lowered, graced Jazz melodies
Dangled with purple and green beads, I sang
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Let my Blackness hold the warmth of the sun
Let the sun reflect the blue in my hue Let the
hue grow darker with the seasons Let the
seasons bring vibrant history Let the history
be my own story
Of a turban tied, sativa laced eyed