- Nov 20, 2004
- 2
- 0
The Curse Between My Legs
Standing in a line-up I closed my eyes, praying to get pass-by. The sound of a wail meant it’s not my turn, so I let out a cry.
The snapping of the whip indicated for the rest of us to return to the fields. Working in extreme heat, the sun has no shield.
I asked an elder state woman what I can do, nothing, just pray you don’t get choose.
How can the master take us to his bed, when he has a wife? It doesn’t matter; it’s been this way all of our life.
Then I shall allow myself to get knocked up, we African women don’t have that kind of luck.
I will refuse and keep my legs closed tight, that would only fuel his fire and he enjoys a good fight.
How can these white women allow their husbands to lay down with us? Don’t God demands in a marriage honesty and trust?
The white women are here only to bare a white child, just like us, they are told to bare it with a smile.
The next day my luck ran out and I was chosen, right then my whole body became stiff and frozen.
It seem like an eternity to reach his room, clouded my mind with thoughts that my life is doomed.
To my surprise his room was clean and made-up, still didn’t stop my breakfast from coming back up.
Like I promise I refused his sexual needs, it seems to bring him pleasure to whip me until I bleed.
Now lying here with both legs secured by wooden pegs, only thoughts going through my mind is why I have this curse between my legs.
Written by allthemanuneed©
Standing in a line-up I closed my eyes, praying to get pass-by. The sound of a wail meant it’s not my turn, so I let out a cry.
The snapping of the whip indicated for the rest of us to return to the fields. Working in extreme heat, the sun has no shield.
I asked an elder state woman what I can do, nothing, just pray you don’t get choose.
How can the master take us to his bed, when he has a wife? It doesn’t matter; it’s been this way all of our life.
Then I shall allow myself to get knocked up, we African women don’t have that kind of luck.
I will refuse and keep my legs closed tight, that would only fuel his fire and he enjoys a good fight.
How can these white women allow their husbands to lay down with us? Don’t God demands in a marriage honesty and trust?
The white women are here only to bare a white child, just like us, they are told to bare it with a smile.
The next day my luck ran out and I was chosen, right then my whole body became stiff and frozen.
It seem like an eternity to reach his room, clouded my mind with thoughts that my life is doomed.
To my surprise his room was clean and made-up, still didn’t stop my breakfast from coming back up.
Like I promise I refused his sexual needs, it seems to bring him pleasure to whip me until I bleed.
Now lying here with both legs secured by wooden pegs, only thoughts going through my mind is why I have this curse between my legs.
Written by allthemanuneed©