hi, and welcome to our cultural exchange programme

objectification;

i want to be objectified but then turn malleable again;

[unfreeze me from being a figurine, pixels on a screen, your mother figure, your fetish]

- exist in my body knowing I've thrown it into a furnace to make the glaze shinier

more womanly

- squeeze my tits and make good money off this body

i want a woman who will love my toes enough to preserve them in resin

who uses my chest as her pillow;

- acknowledges me publically, gropes my ass in inappropriate settings

- fucks me with something hard and made of silicone until i disintegrate into microplastic and reassemble as a blow-up doll

i want the good objectification; the one that centres the plot around suggestive shots of my body, limb for limb

- disconnects my synapses

- kidnaps my better judgement

- makes me consumable

why have I allowed them to civilise me?

to shear off the trees that made my home and put me in sheep's clothing, then tell me my body is sinful the way it was made? that it might tempt the maladaptive and violent? that i should play the first daughter to my forefathers

dutifully shielding my flesh with their garments to feel a part of something bigger

(something bigger, but how big? how overbearing?)

if i see tolerance i want to dig into him like a pie. sink my teeth into his sensibility and tear off something vital; his pancreas, a chunk of everything i tolerate but do not allow for myself

i want what was once primitive to return to my body again;

not shy away from eating the cake after holding it for so long

- let her eyes roam and rest on my cleavage

- imagine all the ways I would become clay for her

i'm a bipedal primate made conscious of my sex appeal outside procreation. can i not for once indulge in peacockery? see-through nipples, hands on scrumptious ass,  volumes and volumes of stomach, tits, flabs

exhibitions of wanton desire to monetise

i am human;

pleading with my body to take the spotlight off my disarming personality, my uncontested intelligence

turn me into something you can form an opinion on and then close your eyes and jail that opinion indefinitely

allow me to transform back, to become who i was before you saw me baring who i could be