And just who do you think you are?
That you
Could build up my emotions
Strong
Like the ancient Egyptian pyramids
Only to leave them shattered
like the crumbs at the bottom of grandma’s cookie jar
After the sweet treats are gone
And who are you?
That you
Could sweet talk me into givin’ up myself
Once closed
Pure as Georgian sugar canes
: and just as sweet
givin’ up my sweet sugar like the saxophone gives in to
lips
and
fin
ger
tips
of Grover or Coltrane
givin’ in –
hoping that what comes from the sacrifice
will be everlasting
but you played me for only a three-count phrase
and laid me down to free your hands for another
and I am left to do a solo performance
:with no assistance
from you
and I thought that since makin’
mu
zi
cal
love
waz your thang
then what I had inside waz enuf for you
but my dance;
and my poems
and sensuous soul: filled with rhapsodies and roses
could not satisfy you
no-
none of that was enough
you were like all men arrogant enough to look for
whatever wasn’t coming your way
and what you found had to be beautiful
: with long permed hair
and she had to have that money
: green as the grass we parted when we were once lovers
yes, your new love had to be full of those superficial qualities
that satisfy your black bourgeois mentality
no deep sister
who knew black men
and could tell you more about
Farrakhan and Medgar Evers
than
they
themselves
knew
no real woman
whose hair went nappy when wet
with water from midnight showers
with big feet: healthy thighs:
common sense
but since you’re one of those so-called MEN
who haven’t yet recognized the unique essence of
a TRUE
Black
Woman
you can keep your lips
and
your fingers
to
yourself
for I’d rather:
cry for my sisters in Soweto;
fast for my people in Johannesburg;
march for my brother Jesse;
before i’d ever
-EVER-
let your lips
: playing games of kiss and lie
and your fingers
: boasting empty caresses
touch
my soul
again
in life
‘cause I am no fool –
and just who do you think I am ANYWAY?
Toni's Room 
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