I only break my heart
when memories become permanent in me
in the moment they solidify and i try to make play-dough instead of letting the movie play.

Moments are beautiful
be in them like a human should
there’s an urge to snap, to caption, but some memories are just meant to be.

It hurts sometimes
my heart breaks as i write this poem with slides playing through my mind — my stomach tells no lies.

But i only break my heart
when memories become permanent in me.

Written by: Flose Boursiquot (goo.gl/oE72rh)

Model for good :)

I’m about to be all y’all’s #WCW when I hit the runway in a Caribbean inspired outfit for the A Proper Affair event next Wednesday night at 6:30! 💃🏽 Beyond Proper by Boston Proper is partnering with Current Celebrity News & Dream Vacations to host the Tenth Annual Proper Affair to support the Achievement Centers for Children & Families which benefits low-income families in the #community.

Tickets start at $100: https://www.eventbrite.com/e/10th-annual-proper-affair-tickets-43487357858

 

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Yoga in the park

Hands to arms,
you touched my heart.

I love you with the strength
of the sun against our stomachs.

You told me that I am my master,
with the earth holding me up,
you showed me community.

Hands to arms,
you touched my heart.

I love you.

Written by Flose Boursiquot
Purchase my books here: https://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=flose+boursiquot

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@nicolesteps

Right love

Women who love other women were abused. 

She says this, my black diva, those words she said.

My vagina shrinks. That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard and I disagree.

“I love other women.” 

Words I haven’t said out-loud to myself enough times to understand. Instead, I write poems — formulas to ease understanding.

The first time a man touched me with his Brillo Pad fingers, I was five. The last time, I was 21. At 16, I asked a boy to hold my virginity. He held it in between his ring finger and thumb — it’s not new, he said.

I agreed. It has been stripped like onion layers at Burger King.

Catholics said god will give me a second one if I prayed. I needed a dozen at that point. God frowned not knowing I had Brillo Pad scars all across my clitoris and vaginal walls.

Women who love other women were abused. 

I love individuals. 

I love individuals because I have seen how men move in systems. From five, I have known that the love in my heart cannot belong to man alone. It belongs to the light inside the light in you — I see the light that shines for me. And so, I love individuals.

I love in human. I love that women are beautiful. I love that womyn are beautiful. I love that trans is beautiful. I love that the light inside the light of me can love right.

Written by: Flose Boursiquot

Published: https://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=flose+boursiquot

KM-2067
Photos: Kalya M Mendez || Jewelry: Haati Chai Jewelry 
Media contact: letitflose@gmail.com
Author of Close Your Eyes, Now Breathe loudmouth.