Sunday, February 1, 2015


you admired my strength
it shone through, you said
a pillar reminding you not to fuck with me
strength: quiet and pulsating
laced with courage for vulnerability.

"she can handle it"
maybe you admired it because you knew that however many times you play rough with me i may waver but always stand tall, never breaking.
and you could walk away

i did not spend years cultivating this
only for you to test its limits.
i made this to share. to walk with loved ones.
to wear my wounds open
and to heal them with my own tongue.


soft. vulnerable. hopeful.
every time.
maybe i’m foolish
or forgetful
or insanely courageous.

maybe a goddess
with infinite capacity
for forgiveness.


my bedouin roots prepare me
for the harshness of matters of the heart.
nomadic, not by choice but by necessity.
when the well runs out
when the resource stops regenerating
i pack light and move on.

when i find my new oasis
i make a home out of small corner spaces
like an inconvenient guest
ready to leave whenever she is asked
whenever the wells run dry

i pack light and move on
i pack light and move on
i pack light and move on

over and over and over again.