strip tease.

life dwindles down to the battle of layers.
like paper mache, facades are smoothed onto the surface.
we'll gamble our lives away for these sticky layers, validation.
stacking misconstrued identities on top of one another:

the preconceived notions of womanhood
the implications of being black
the Spelmanite mask
and this,
and that,
and this and this and that and that ...

we press these layers to our soul to keep the world at bay
these layers-
hiding our dorky laughter, our inhabitions, our raw ingredients.
we use fashion labels and Twitter personas as masks to conceal our spiritual blemishes.
we are the Eves & Adams of this generation, ashamed of our bare substance ...
diving behind the bushes of society's poor substance.

as for me,
everyday is a conscious decision to strip.
before i am a woman, before i am black ... i am human ... & i'm proud of my naked soul.

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