Her hair hallelujahs, enchanting to be finger combed
Her eyes dance, alluring into charms
Her mouth mesmerizes, asking to be kissed
Her cheeks blush, begging to be touched
Her chin swoons, appealing to be played with
Her breasts
…scream
… ‘FILLED’
…attracting fantasies of suckles
Her nails
…promise scratches of ecstasy
Her dress perfectly draws contours
…throwing curiosity of being toured
Her legs swing like a sling
Showing journeys that can be traveled without tiredness
Abena kwaterikwa
…what am I doing here?
II
Her perfume scents heaven
Her makeup spells paradise
Her heels hymn hosannas
And she knows she wields a weapon
…none of us has
Abena what –
…what at all am I doing here?
III
I can see the way the all-Adam-panelists look at her
…like a delicacy they need to taste
I can see the way they smile at her
…like pick-me buffoons
I can sense their thoughts
…ahhs on mmmms on wooshes and eiiis!
Need I mention the loud adjeiiis and wois I see shouting in their wild goosebumps courting pores?
Abena hwee
…what am I doing here?
IV
Our CVs won’t trick a pick
Our competences won’t compete a win
Our decency won’t moral slots
This is a battle we lost before its beginning
Abena atitikwaa
…let me stand my grounds
…go through the routine
…and bolt
Acting like nothing ever happened
Because this slot is for a whole hole who knows how to set her traps
…and hunts fairly unfairly
Maybe I need to learn from her
…a thing or two or maybe more
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © April 21, 2020
Mum Cee 