We are pink kissed

butterflies

in mists,

birthed in flight

with rights

by mothers ,

yet sought for every day

pornography,

clipped ,

dipped,

pinned and penned

on glossies…

caught,

bought,

sought and tossed in pick-ups,

sold

for pennies on a page

as thin as mist

for less

than what a hot dog

and a soda

costs,

cat -called

stalked, defrocked

artists, poets

and mothers

caught up in worlds

of everyday

pornography

with rights

birthed in flight…

yet bleeding repressively,

distressingly

taught

that slavery

is about black and white,

not wrong and right

near hot dog stands,

but here I am

to take my stand,

I know I’m just a mother,

but oh my darlings,

blue and pink

and black and white

are only colors…

but you …

oh you…

my lovelies

are love’s hope filled picture,

of butterflies

birthed in flight,

in loving mists,

kissed …to walk on water