Every day I walk out of my house, I lie. I strut as though my clothes are made of silks. My hips switch and sway and slap my silken svelte silhouette. Swoosh.
Every day I step out of my car, I lie. I smile as though my “whip” is washed in wealth. My teeth reek of a rich man’s right to ride in a Rolls Royce. Roar.
Every day I write out of my soul, I lie. I spew as though my heart is purged and pure. My words drip with daunting desperation to devour your dampened desire. Drop.
Every day I dance out of my core, I lie. I soar as though my limbs have learned to sail. My thighs burn as blessings billow beyond my benevolence. Bow.
Photo credit: Selena Moshell for Yow Dance