Encircled by a group of guyfriends

gathered like scholars circles back in medival times,

news about a girl comes up.

Instantly, it comes down to the unconscious question:

"Is she pretty?"

("She better not be ugly.")

As though the answer

can help them trace her black eyelinings

down to her soul;

As though it can crack the code to her existence;

As though they can see through her head

and witness the sparks of her molecular brain

manifest her significance.

Or instead, they might ask: "Is she hot?"

As though they could salivate over her

like how they do with spicy papaya salad;

fetishizing her breast, legs, and thighs

like something they would order from KFC;

as though their minds can already 

map out the destinations of her body.

As though  that is all they need to know all about her;

As though her looks defines her humanity

(or is it them who's "looking" at her?)"

Perhaps she is the oldest daughter

working two jobs to support her family;

Perhaps she is a woman with Turner's syndrome

and as a child she's been giving names to babies she know she'll never have;

Perhaps she is an IB diploma candidate;

Perhaps she is a victim of bulimia or anoroxia,

because she feared she will judged  everyday by guys like you!

Perhaps she is an artist:

A bgirl,  warrior-like on the battlefield

as her fragrant body poses -----

 into a chair freeze

and sends the crowd roaring!

A sculptor,  her ideas build BEAUTIful structures, bigger than life

Or maybe------  she herself IS bigger than life

so big that they have to 

squeeze her Being into this loaded 3 word question

the same way she is pressured to squeeze her swollen foot 

into a high heel too small for her!

Stop putting her on trial

Stop studying her like you can figure her out

because you can't if that's your intention.

So... don't ask the questions

"Is she pretty?" or "Is she hot?"

Instead ask the question:

"Who is she?"