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[comb]ined

[comb]ined

Aunt Lilith from British Honduras is
How I knew her

When I got older
No one changed it to Belize

She was rough and brutus-like
In movement and affect

She had the hairiest legs
I’d ever seen on a woman

While wielding the dirtiest
Mouth

I’d stand in line behind her
Six girls

Waiting to get my hair
Braided but

I don’t think she liked
Me being added

When it was my turn
She pulled and hit me

Across the face
When I cried

Although my face
Was red

I’d left their home
With a perfect braid

A french one
With ribbons

Aunt Lilith taught me
The cost of beauty

Was what people
Paid to get compliments

So I only wear my hair
Up or down
But never in a braid

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