For colored girls

She will learn from early that she carries history in her hair.
Generations of thick tangled tresses.
Genetically made up to be wild,
not tamed or managed or straightened.
Tautly twined coils stretched like the goatskin
that cover djembe drums
each lock relentlessly rebelling.
Defiant like sugar cane, too relentless to conform,
to transform, to be altered
into something that she wasn’t really destined to be.
I will remind her that there is strength in those curls
and that alone makes her beautiful.


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