They are God’s daughters. They are his wives.
They are his sisters, and his mistresses,
and the heat is quick between their thighs.
They are saving, they are staggering—
they are burning a thousand calories an hour,
an amazing grace. They are moving the bodies
God gave them, trying to whittle them
down to size. They like sweet potatoes
and Taylor Swift. They wriggle their booty,
they are Baptist—or maybe they’ve snuck in,
like me. And they are white and black and Asian,
and they are falling apart, and they are falling together,
and I am dancing as fast as I can,
just to keep up with them.
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