I don’t trust my hips
For the bite marks they can conjure and the blood they can’t.
I don’t trust my hips it be there with the “bye bye” thrust of sweat down my breast and across my brow and between out bellies.
I don’t trust my hips to serve me while giving their gifts away.
I don’t trust my hips to carry me to my end of days.
I don’t trust me hips to support my future.
I don’t trust my hips to curve towards faithfulness.
I don’t trust my hips to write a poem to you. In the making of our love.
I don’t trust my hips to hit that barbell with such ferocity that they can send a weight hurling up my body and over my head to lock do I can say “I am strong”
I don’t trust my hips to be in control.
They are not. When one day they are, my mind and heart will not catch up and be dragged through the dirt on their vicious path to domination of Man, of Woman, of Self.
That day will come and I will feel fully in my power.
My hips will not serve me. I shall serve them. They hold my desires and release my gifts. And need not my protection. Only my release
I don’t trust my hips to stay sexy.