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Ndidi

Ndidi at ten was
a white rose,
from the outside and within
you could tell she was
innocent-

it radiated through
her face,
her thick black kinky hair
and her watery eyes.
at fifteen she
became a monkey:

spirited, like a horse.
full of energy- the
kind the sun possesses. 

most of all she became unpredictable
and like most unpredictable things,
hard to keep up with.
she grew, she blossomed
transiting at twenty one. 

like a snake, she shed
all of her innocence.
her eyes, once watery,
spilled and in it's place,
stealthy temptation.

before thirty,
she had assumed the
shape of a cow
and consumed everyone
that came her way like fire does. 

Ndidi you see,
at forty-four became
a vulture.
feeding on the leftovers
of her youth.
and like all vultures,
she became a dreaded tale
in our town. 

and this my friends is
who society sees in 
a woman. 

they forget she was born, 
bore children
after she grew in constant 
baptism of a certain man's supremacy. 

she bore children 
feeding them wisdom with
every drop of milk, 
she fed them
words:
these words, 
'a woman is god' 

the kids will stare at their mother now
starry eyed and perplexed:
the once white rose
now a dreaded tale in our town. 
g.o.
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