I wish you would
walk up in my house
before God and everybody
up and had they morning

piss. I wish you would
try to find me fucking
the way God intended,
up in my room talking

about peace and dignity
like I ain’t got a piece
of what you want.
Come and try

to shape my love into
an animal. I’ll show you
all my human parts.
Show you my teeth

sunk into the peach
pit of my partner’s chest,
my bare breasts born
for feeding. Come

milk and make me
bestial.     You all do.
Your predictability
a comfort. It’s easy

to live a lie long
enough to shape me.
Easier to forget
my body’s daily

dying if I wasn’t
meant to feel it. Ask
anyone. I like it easy.
Better to be an

animal, say, a dog
if possible. What white
man doesn’t love
the dogs he keeps?