Sunday, February 1, 2015

strength.



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.

you admired my strength the way a master admires a well-built human being at a slave auction.


"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
guilt-free.


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.

goddess

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


maybe a goddess
with infinite capacity
for forgiveness.

bedouin

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.