Venus Spits On Me By Jasiah Hasan

Venus Spits On Me

Botticelli’s The birth of Venus:
goddess of love
goddess of everything
warm blooded &
doomed to desire Desire
born from pink oyster lips
pinnacle of womanhood
just out of reach
hair like liquid sun pouring
down pale satin flesh
breasts like pearls
next to soot stains on my chest
eyes like churning oceans
the way mine are dead kelp
the way mine are oil spills.

Jupiter only has eyes for
a blushing planet of rust
commands heaven
to let her dance twice a day
morning and night
the whitest star in the sky
burning imprints in man’s eyes
but I am star-eater
I am black hole &
wildfire smoke darkening
his pink lungs.

O Venus
why curse a brown beauty
with Desire?
Kali may be fierce but
Durga still sleeps in her heart
yearning and woman.
Botticelli paints blue eyes
gold spun hair
buttercream white skin
so white that it looks like
sidewalk chalk on my brownness
like a halfhearted eraser mark
that couldn’t get the job done.

By Jasiah Hasan


Jasiah Hasan is a 22-year-old poet and writer from Portland, Oregon. She studied poetry at the University of Virginia. In her free time, she loves hiking, cooking, and oil painting.

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