The Thing Between Your Legs by Efe Ogufere

Little girls have found dark places
within themselves to hide from the light.

Brother Jethro likes his fruits
unripe and unsure,
the acerbic taste of its innocence
is an elixir that soothes his madness.

he often quipped,

This is how to become a man;
by taking a woman, breaking her in bits,
tying her tongue to her teeth, and
teaching her the values in silence.
returning to her bed each night soaked
in the guilty pleasures of stolen virtue,
a musk that clings to the curse between your legs.

This is how to become a monster;
by placing your slender fingers
in forbidden places and groping pillars,
seeking doors that have not known sin.
waiting for sharp piercing sounds of amen,
as they pray to a god that will not answer them.

This is how to become a corpse;
lying still, as water ebbs from you,
sticks to your thighs, touches the tiles,
draws a map like a mother giving life.
you see a smile, a knife and your manhood
in the hands of a woman that called you, husband.