Black Bodies

By Kailah Trice

I am showcasing my love for Black features, our hair, skin, and lips. They are often portrayed in a positive light when they are on white bodies, but they should be celebrated on our bodies.

The sounds of a Black woman
As she sings.
In her songs she has
Grunts,
Moans,
Groans,
And vibratos that
Are so far-reaching,
And such history behind them that they
Shake the very
Waters of the boats
That stole away her ancestors
So much so,
They can hear her.

The curves of a Black body.
The “arch in my back and the stride in my step,”
Like Maya would say
Create a Phenomenal Woman.
Every inch,
Perfectly crafted by the hand of God
Starting with the pigmentation of that
Sweet, caramel-coated, chocolate-dipped
And chipped melanin
Because yes,
Even He made the first woman
Black.

The warmth
Of her smile.
My smile.
Lips so full
They spread
Into an infectious pit of joy.
She laughs from the
Bellows of her soul
While her whole-body dances
To the beat of her
Radiant rhythm.

Dare I say her hair
Is too much
For the world
Keeps telling her to
Relax.
But my hair,
Has millions of years
Of strength in each curl.
It’s beauty will never
Bend to a perm,
Bow to a trim,
Shrink
To fulfill the role of making
Other girls feel more
Natural.

And her beautiful eyes,
Full of wisdom and courage
Light up the darkest of nights.
Stars glow and illuminate
Windows to the soul
Of her celestial being,
The things she’s seeing.

These,
My mother’s features,
And her mother’s
And her mother’s
Passed down to me.
A beacon
Never lost in translation,
Blessing each generation.

Futures,
As bright as the smiles
Of my ancestors
Looking down on me,
Because this Black body
Lives
Their wildest hopes and dreams.

Process

“Black Bodies” is a piece I have been working on for a while that was largely inspired by Maya Angelou’s “Phenomenal Woman.” The time I was originally writing the piece felt like a tumultuous time for Black people in America, as I remember feeling numb hearing about Black people being killed by racism and police brutality. I remember thinking there were so many Black bodies in the streets, and I wanted to take that word, “bodies,” and not have it center around death but around the life and the beauty of Black women. I took this piece to the Penguin Random House workshop, and I got a lot of positive feedback. The best piece of advice I got was to put myself more into the poem. I had written it almost as an outsider looking in, but I am a Black woman. The features I talk about in the poem are mine, my friends’, and my family, so it made sense that I should include more of myself in it. I’m grateful for that workshop because it helped me figure out how to make the poem more personal for the reader and for myself.