Nah, I probably would NOT have been in the fields. I would’ve been in the house. I probably would’ve had to open my legs up for massah unwillingly, as I clinched my teeth and hummed the tune of a rhythm I remembered hearing in my village. I probably would’ve been gettin’ mean looks from the “Mrs” because she knew her husband was enjoying every bit of this brown sugar, as he only set her milky white self up on a pedestal, convincing her that he couldn’t defile her because she was just too “pure.” I would’ve been in the kitchen, cookin’ food. I would’ve been grindin’ up glass or rocks or fine pieces of metal and puttin’ it in said food. And servin’ it. With no regrets. No regrets I say.
Posted on: Mon, 28 Jul 2014 20:43:32 +0000
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