The Full-Figured/Fat Woman and the Full-Mouthed Frog/Prince
by Exodus Oktavia Brownlow
I
I: The Full-Mouthed Frog
Nobody likes me.
People wish for me to die, so they pour salt on my skin.
You said that you wanted to see the world, and I have made my mouth an entire globe.
It has water inside already, so have a drink.
It has soil, so please plant a garden.
My mouth is the whole earth, for you.
⦿
Love is about compromise.
To prepare my body to best receive you, I let you slip your wealth of leg-length into my own hind legs that stretch the longest. The stretching is not so bad of a sting, just the kind that makes me realize that there is more in me that can be strengthened with time.
When I stand, I am taller but I cannot hop as high as I used to. You tell me, compromise, see how fast you can run. When I do, the land is not as far-distanced as before.
Yards slip by in seconds. Miles melt down to minutes.
⦿
I said that I would keep you safe inside where no one else would be able to see you.
Don’t worry, when my throat swells up, the Bad People will just think that’s how I already am. You and I don’t like to be seen because to be seen means to be seen, so I camouflage us within the setting. Don’t worry, they will never suspect that you are inside of me, blossomed-big-bodied beloved.
When my tongue hits you, I check to see if you taste like poison because maybe I’m blinded by my own desperation, and maybe you are something I should spit out.
All I taste, though, is the sweat-sweet-salted plum-cheek.
II: The Full-Figured Woman
Nobody likes me.
People wish for me to die, so they throw salt on my name.
I have stopped praying for a man’s love because to pray for a man’s love, is to pay for it with my own life.
‘Is to think that I can make myself full from off of just crumbs, when my body craves entire feasts.
I presently pray to be free, instead.
⦿
Love is about giving.
To prepare my body to best receive you, I let your slime seep itself over my layers of skin. The mucus is not so bad of a stickiness, just the kind that makes me think about the dried spit on a lollipop, the smidge of jam that stubbornly stays on the countertop.
Where I live currently, I am safe, but I cannot see as much as I used to. You tell me, giving, and my eyes are your best lenses. Wherever I look, I can see the land from so many different views.
Front, sides, and a little bit behind me.
⦿
I open up to your ribbiting rhythms rapping at my door, and you open your mouth wide and so big it’s like a snow-globe only there is less snow and more sludge.
Snap, goes the quick whip of your tongue—soft anconda’ed-jelly that slinky’es me inside of you.
Your belly-bed flattens to a lily pad, the first bed big enough for me to roll over in. You tell me that this is the closest to being full that you’ve ever gotten.
III: The Prince
I had tried to tell the Bad People that I am a Prince. I hid myself away to the darkest and dampest corners and somehow, they still found me. I tried to tell the Bad People that when they throw salt on my skin, it dehydrates me. Makes my skin like a crispy-chip when my skin needs to be like a dewy-dumpling.
They said, Good, we wish to see a little less of you, they sneered. And also, you are not a Prince. You are just a frog.
Bad People are not very clever with the badness of their sayings.
IV: The Fat Woman
I had tried to tell the Mean People that I am Full-Figured. I hid myself away in the dullest and drabbest clothing, and somehow, they still spotted me. I tried to tell the Mean People that when they throw salt on my name, it makes me cry. Takes every drop from inside my eyes, and out of me, and makes me too thirsty to eat.
They said, Good, we wish for there to be a little less of you to see, they demanded. And also, you are not full-figured. You are just a fat woman
Mean People are very frank with the meanness of their sayings.
V: The Full-Figured Woman and The Prince
Our names for one another are beyond what the Bad and Mean people call the ones they claim to love.
Bad and Mean people call their partners baby, because this way they can stay just as they are, and won’t grow on to become something that they can no longer handle.
They call their partners babes, because it’s a love that’s really based upon lust, that’s really based upon looks that will soon begin to flicker-out.
They call their partners boos, because this is what they wish to shout to their partners. That they, themselves, their love, their lust, is a disapproval, is a contempt. And if the Bad and Mean people really cared about their partners at all, they would call each other bravo.
⦿
I call you Prince, because that’s what you want to be called. Your body is the world, you tell me, look at how much it has grown.
⦿
I call you Full-Figured Woman because that’s what you want to be called. Your mouth is a galaxy, you tell me. Look at how much it can hold.
Why don’t the Bad and Mean people ever call their partners what they hope to be? Even if the world says that they aren’t? We ask each other.
Because some people can only handle a kind of smallness, and a kind of bigness is a kind of question that would push them out from the small comforts of their minds. We answer.
⦿
We tell each other to come on.
To see what the outside world will throw at us now that we are too big to be pressed beneath a boot, too big to be kicked by a steel-toed thrust.
The Bad and Mean People will become the Good and Sweet People. They will run out of salt, and swap it for sugar.
I’m betting there will be flies for us to eat. And flowers for us to weave ourselves a crown.
I’m betting there will be fries for us to eat. And telescopes for us to see the universe beyond.
We tell each other all sorts of things.
Adoring things.
We tell each other that everybody will love us, now.
Exodus Oktavia Brownlow is a Blackhawk, Mississippi native. She is a graduate of Mississippi Valley State University with a B.A. in English, and Mississippi University for Women with an MFA in Creative Writing. Exodus has been published or has upcoming work with Electric Literature, Cosmonauts Avenue, Barren Magazine, Jellyfish Review, Parentheses Journal, Booth and more. She has a healthy adoration for the color green.
