Monday, July 20, 2015

tell you why, woman

They tell you to look behind
each time you take a step
expect you to walk straight
 when you have to bend your back
enough to get past the two walls
creeping in on your arms

tell you why woman
keep the doors shut but the windows open
doesn't the sunshine get in anyways
from both panes and thresholds
but you know best the direction of your sunshine

tell you more when you listen woman
to the warning of do not parade the streets
at night, because night-walkers can be mistaken
for love sellers, a beautified word to the shame of slick women
never walk a street alone

and then when you fold yourself together and think
woman, why this has always been a different walk
you will realize, with your breast
with your high-brow that it is this destiny
that lets you sleep
with a knife near your head
and a rose planted inside of your
for comfort, and nothing else.

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