The African Curse

She’s scrubbing her skin viciously

Her skin

Dark and dry

 

It’s scorched by the African sum

They call it ‘The African Curse’

 

A vile taste stays on her tongue

The smell from her fingertips nauseates her

 

Her room

Scattered with magazine pages,

Filled with images of beautiful women

 

She wants to be that woman

Beautiful and light

Skinny and flat

 

Her hair

Dark brown and rough

A petting zoo, a flaw

 

Her lips

Too big, too brown

 

She’s still scrubbing her skin

She’s taking care of her flaws

She’s going to be beautiful now

She’s going to be loved now.

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