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