Really? So I'm no more.
I heard this story before, a long time ago.
Just the strength of my hands is important.
Just the blood pumping through my heart is important.
I guess that's why you cut off my face.
Shoulder blades protruding
from dark skin.
And you say I'm no more exotic than the
I stand in. Really?
So I guess that's why the room is obscure,
Yes, I guess that is why you've given me a white
crinkled, cotton dress.
Monogram my dress with "MD,"
and it sure doesn't mean medical doctor-
Is that how you define me?
Maybe my name is Mary Dean
or maybe its Melissa Dee.
You'll never know because I'm yet another faceless
Well, if I stand tall, square hands on round hips,
strong forearms cradling flower bud breasts,
and cocoa brown arms posed stiffly
against my confident slender body
I may not be exotic
but you better believe
And I'm here.