I am not a slave to my looks therefore I am not a slave to my hair.
Next time you say,
You will never get a man with that hair.
Instead of running home to cry while smothering lipstick on my mouth,
I will say:
Well these locks allow thirty minutes less in the bathroom which leaves more time for snuggling,
I can sweat and jump in the pool to wash off, and I don’t have to wear a plastic bag over my head when I’m kissing in the rain –
My man will be so lucky.
I am no longer a slave to the white man therefore I am not a slave to my hair.
Next time you come up to me and tell me to fix it,
Instead of remaining speechless in perturbed confusion
I will say,
Well this is the way my hair is,
I like it nappy, no leave it -
Let it alone no need for a comb - it’s supposed to be
He blessed me with dry roots so I can learn patience,
There is so little of it so I can know contentment.
No it’s ok; here lemme show you -
Underneath that wig is your gorgeous hair too.