I was birthed from pain
Formed in the very depths of the universe.
i laid within her
drinking of her,
nursing at her teat.
i sharpened my spirit for the battle that is this Life,
laying in wait to make it my footstool.
prepared me for the war that lay within your arms
You must wring it out…
cleanse it off you,
Out of your homes
out of these walls…
You must beckon your truth from beyond
The women before me,
the ones who made a feast of their silence on the daily
bowing at the altar that is their husbands
The ones who pierced the night
beckoning their husbands from the dark,
cleansing their palates from the bitter aftertaste of lust lugged home by their husbands
they live in me
their silence fires my soul
emboldens my passion and stride
strengthening me in hours of doubt..
for them i carry the torch of life
You are too bold, they said.
Do my words sting?
does your blood rise from fury from the flow of truth uncouth?
does my release from years of tormented silence shrivel your manhood?
does the blood coursing from my ripened tongue turn your flesh cold?
as the color gushes forth unbidden from this ocean
I brew magic everyday
on this ebony canvass divine
destitution and death from this body of mine
I have kissed every crevice,
spoken lovingly to the darkened parts,
serenaded it under the starry moonlight
and awoke it with kisses at dawn…
i have loved myself to life,
with every birth and breath of mine,
to have you rip me apart again.
He hated it. The strength of my tongue
like he taught me to tame it. The fire that burned beneath my chest….
like he taught me to make a feast of my mother’s silence.
This wanton tongue of mine,
fashioned from the oppressed eyes and sighs of the supple bodies
sharpened edges doused in the tears of my women passed.
This tongue will no longer hold this weight.
She will soar free with no fear.
I will no longer swallow myself
to provide nourishment
for your fickleness