I have an addiction
To the friction of Trashy Lingerie
And the way
It looks and feels against my skin
Every day
I display a different matching set
This fetish makes me wet
And sometimes gets me into debt
Cause I just cant resist how my body is embraced
By animal prints, and lace
That I take with me everywhere
And every place
And when I really really like a pair
I buy two of each
So I can have a spare
Just incase
In the heat of the moment
My panties tear
Or somehow my underwear
Gets lost or stolen
And one set is always a bigger size
I like to wear
During the times of the month
When my hips are swollen
This is a gift that I give to myself
It is for no one else’s pleasure but mine
Makes me feel divine
This treasure I keep from the world
Only very few and selected people know
About my leopard print panties cut low
Adorned with a hot-pink bow
Covering only three quarters in the back
I also got these in velvet red and embroidered in black
With a 34B cup push up Bra to match
That would give any healthy boy a heart attack
And attract the attention of both womyn and men.
But I don’t wear it for them,
I do it for me!
I get aroused at the thought of embroidery
And granny panties are just not meant for me
I only wear those occasionally
Cause what’s the point of functionality
If it’s repressing my sexuality?
Cause you cant go wrong
With a lacey thong
In deep colors or delicate pastels
That propel a sweetness
That makes me think of cake
Strawberry meringues and honey
So I spend all my money
On this weakness
But this fetish is a part of my uniqueness
I love to be out in the street taking care of my business
Only to remember halfway through my day
That underneath it all
I am wearing the cutest lingerie
That only I will get to see later
And knowing this, makes me walk a little bit straighter
Brush off all the haters
With my head up high
I don’t walk, I glide
With a lot more confidence in my stride
Like I got nothing to hide
Though I do
Cause I know something the world doesn’t know
But sometimes I like to let my bra straps show
Just a little
To give a hint
Of my favorite print
Not to please
And not to tease
But just cause, that’s a part of my steeaz
So please
Don’t think my cleavage is an invitation for you to flirt
Cause you can see marks of red lace across the top of my shirt
And the line of my thong from the back of my skirt
Believe me I’m not doing it to give you an erection
Or to have you throw pick up lines in my direction
Its just one of the many ways in which I practice self-love and affection
It’s not an excuse for you to question my feminism
The Revolution has nothing to do with my underwear
Or the cut or the fit of the clothes that I wear
And my lingerie addiction
Is not in contradiction to my role in the struggle of my people
I am grounded in strength for the things I believe
And will fight to the death till my goals are achieved
But I am both humyn and womyn
And as much as I got love for my people
I also got love for myself
So whether I’m fighting with the Zapatistas in the mountains of Chiapas
Or having clandestine meetings in Palestine to bulldoze the Apartheid wall
Whether I’m performing for young Latinas in East LA
Or I’m teaching literacy in Juvenile Halls
Whether I’m marching with students down the ghettos of South Central
Cause they don’t feel their school takes them seriously at all
Whether I’m at a garment worker’s monthly meeting
Or guest speaker at a rally against police brutality outside City Hall
Know that when the Revolution comes
I will be prepared in green fatigues, combat boots with a top of the line AK
And underneath it all….
my favorite set of matching lingerie
