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Inevitable

when I dropped my 12-year-old off at her first
homecoming dance, I tried not to look
 
her newly-developed breasts, all surprise and alert
in their uncertainty. I tried not to imagine her
 
mashed between a young man's curiousness
and the gym's sweaty wall. I tried not picture
 
her grinding off beat/on time to the rhythm
of a dark manchild; the one who whispered
 
“you are the most beautiful girl in brooklyn”
his swag so sincere, she'd easily mistaken him for a god.

Mahogany L. Browne is the author of Redbone (Aquarius Press, 2015) and Black Girl Magic (Roaring Brook Press, 2018), among numerous other books.

About Mahogany L. Browne

Themes

About this Poem

“This is probably one of the most embarrassing moments for my daughter but it became a timestamp for my uncertainty as a mother of a pre-teen. Using couplets required me to keep it brief, with a structure that confined the reader until the gut-punch ending. I wanted to offer an honest and introspective moment of a girl growing into a young lady, and I try not to place such a heavy expectation on such a seemingly flash-in-the-pan moment but the more I edited this piece, the more I realized I was only a mirror of my own memories. I experienced this sort of sexual awakening in my teens but it was because of her that I was able to voice the fear of losing (my daughter) as she experienced such a fleeting sweetness. This confessional snapshot became an offering to my daughter. I felt I had little control over the romance that would color her womanhood—the same way, I'm sure, my mother felt about me.”
—Mahogany L. Browne

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More by this poet

If Love is For the Fishes

i breathe them in each night
a shallow breath of scaly skin
i breathe deep & think
of the shrimp’s crooked smile
i breathe deeper & am thankful
for the lobster’s claw
i know this is a type of love
and dream for their flesh to never know harm nor hurt

Mahogany L. Browne

2023

Goodnight, Moon

static turns the TV screen into a grey overcast of noise/& the
stars know this kind of swoon/ how the tension of a tongue don’t
mean much/to a black sky//when i hold his hand to my chest/
i think/ he believes — i am the sky// so i say: i am the sky &
everything around me is smoke stained // the subway train is

Mahogany L. Browne

2023

Country of Water

I know who I am because I believe it

The breath in my chest
Insistent in its choice

The skin that I’m in
The bones and blood and veins
It carries like a promise

Have you witnessed the ocean

Mahogany L. Browne

2022

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Inevitable

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