for Maya
Where did we lose our phenomenal? I think we left it on the back stoop, abandoned it like a baby on steps for anyone to pick up and call their own. I think we tucked it under our tongues, let it dissolve and melt away. The taste of it still lingers.
We spread our phenomenal across beds in the backs of cars where we opened it for anyone who said the magic word. We smeared it on counters and couches; made it a jam or marmalade to lick for satisfaction.
Woman, you have been phenomenal and everlasting since the beginning of time, since the Nile and cradle of civilization and Lucy.
Your phenomenal bones are proof that you were once here. And breathing. And everything.
Our brown bosoms have brought nations to their knees. Our opened mouths have made even the most powerful cower.
Our brick-and-mortar skin has always been a phenomenal destination—brownstone thighs, handcrafted cathedral of a waist,
sweltering temple lips, a museum of a mind, we will find our phenomenal when we stop looking and just be.