Maple, skin, girl
I hope your insides
Tastes as sweet as the syrup I imagine.
You were a symbol of lust, not love,
Since the day you came into form.
Old heads look at you
And lick their lips.
Grandmas shake their heads
At the shake in your walk.
Fast is the word they use.
It’s funny how you don’t even have to open your mouth
For the target to start forming to fit your curves.
You are the envy
Of those reminiscing on their own
Mirage of switching hips.
You are the fantasy of those
Who think with everything but their heads.
And all you’ve done
Watch & listen: Caitlin Leggett reads “Fast”
Read another poem by Caitlin, “Strange Fruit, 2020” on our blog here
Author’s Note: I wrote “Fast” as an ode to all the girls who were hyper-sexualized before they even knew was sex was. When their curves were met with disdain, and they were called fast though they didn’t know why. When they were filling out their jeans, but it was an issue for everyone but them. When their school labeled their shoulders and thighs as distractions. When covering up wasn’t enough because it had to baggy as well. When they weren’t allowed to just be because they had a full plate of leg, breast, and thigh.
Caitlin Leggett is a spoken word poetry artist from Durham, NC. She has been published by Ghostheart Literary Journal, Oddball Magazine, The B’K Literary Journal, and Durham Magazine. More of her work can be seen on her online portfolio http://leggettwrites.weebly.com/.