how seeing the shape of your mouth
that first time, I kept staring
until my blood turned to rain.
Some things take root
in the brain and just don’t
Woman of Mint
She hauls her desire from the anguish of thorns,
whispering: sunlight abides in you.
She is followed by the aroma of a fleeting moment
which she ignites with the perfume of Spring.
Not once does she gasp for breath.
Only wild nettle sates her desire:
his hair alone will make her easy.
His presence delights the scenery.
He populates vacancy.
He takes the pure mint with the force of his leaves,
scarring her deep inside.
His sting… his victory.
Her breath stopped, as if for eternity.
Then he tickles her elbow with his sting.
I will not keep my mouth shut. A bitch knows her voice. Knows how to howl with a wolf pack in her throat. A bitch is honest. A bitch doesn’t follow the rules; demands to know who wrote them. Rules are weak. Rules are prey.
I am alpha female; I am fur on fire. I am roaring tornado combusting misogynist mountains to dust. Crushed bones and gutted patriarchy carcass. We bleed to survive, you bleed to keep up.