Poetry by Farah Lawal Harris

Broken Condom

cold weather is like a broken condom:
the warmth of the sun was so fun and satisfying
and then i look down and find a gaping hole
where unexpected seeds spread when
i was supposed to be protected.
i am so disconnected when
it’s pitch black outside by early evening
and everyone talks about the holiday season
and as i shiver, i get tired of counting
the reasons that i hate
this time of year–
spread the holiday cheer.


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