I was inspired by a discussion about not eating chicken wings in the presence of White people (yes, for some this is a thing. Ask your nearest Blackfriend). This is for the many Black girls out there who eat chicken wings behind closed doors, under their office desk, in the dark, away from the eyes of their White coworkers. It's okay, girl. Let it hang out.
Shea Butter Queen, what’s your name?
I see you there, marinating in shame
Nibbling daintily, fighting with guilt
Girl, don’t forget the nations your ancestors built.
Givers of life, nourishing kings on your teat
You’ve come too far to shy away from miniature meat.
So drop that fork. Put down that knife.
Gal, we is free now, unburdened by strife.
Shea Butter Queen, do you know you’re a boss?
Fear not those white eyes; from your fingers lick that sauce.
With one hand or with two, it’s all the same
Cocoa Goddess, don’t forget the reason you came
To this place of joy, where chicken parts are battered
And fried and coated magnificently; my heart, it does patter
At the thought of such pleasure, here for the taking
Don’t deny yourself, boo. This is love we’re making.
Shea Butter Queen, hold your head, suck that bone.
Be the bravest, Blackest marrow eater these white people have known.
Do it for Martin, for Mahalia, for Michael,
Don’t cover your face; Escape that shame cycle.
Sit outside and face the street,
Look them straight in the eye, from the thigh suck that meat.
Shea Butter Queen, worth more than crystal.
Embrace your true greatness. Now don’t forget that gristle.
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