My hips were little.
They had a sway yet I never listened, never paid the day.
And all the whistle and all the call was for something I was
not sure of at all.
I was me.
Hips. What, yes some yummy
hips that my Mama and Grammies all said were there and for us flair and yet I
said ah no to my hips.
My babies were born and the hips grew, how? I’ll never know the clue. Yet here I stand, hand each handstand
upon the massive new that is my middle hue.
I am hips, roll above and a little more and yes, ah oh ah,
yes that nice nestle deep down that never saw light anyway.
I am New.
Me New.
Not sure what that means New but like my Hips, I’m dipping
for Hip-Tips to be a little New in my inner-freshness allure to find
guide-humble long in the thin fabric of life tip-dip song finding rhythm in a
hip-walk never gone.
Be free Woman to be You.
Curve, straight ALWAYS angulated or maybe you make a ruckus
to preach the pause. You are you
and I am I and we are humans by and by.
Make the Hips shake, make your heartbreak sink and you will
be song.
Just keep those Glorious Hips Shak’n.
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