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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