waruguru wa kiai(wwk)

Tales from between my thighs.

I worry not for my vagina
and the rushed mining expeditions
my hole will endure.
I am not afraid of the rush
to stick swollen meat between my thighs,
nor am I shaken
by the sight of dangling balls
slapping hard against my skin.
I am not afraid
of flips and turns
in attempts to achieve toe curling
one eye shutting
lord praising
heaven promising
I have never been afraid.
It is my womb
that has me chilled
I wonder in fright
for my eager eggs
waiting at the finishing line
for some ambitious sperm
to spark life.
I worry for my bakery
I could steam a rogue life
bent on unleashing untold suffering
years later,
I could harbor a young lady
who will find no use in wearing underwear
always hoisted on some penis
breeding fatherless children, I worry.
Spread fine, legs apart-quarter to three
watching in shock
as the miner on top of me
huffs and puffs
draining rivers of sweat on my freshly done locks
calling on his ancestors in strange tongues
requiring me to call him my ‘daddy’
It strikes me,
I must worry for my vagina
and the streams of one eyed ,snake tailed
sticky beasts that invade my world
I now worry for my vagina.

Patrick Ambani Photography



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