when your little girl
asks you if she’s pretty
your heart will drop like a wineglass
on the hardwood floor
part of you will want to say
of course you are, don’t ever question it
and the other part
the part that is clawing at
will want to grab her by her shoulders
look straight into the wells of
her eyes until they echo back to you
you do not have to be if you don’t want to
it is not your job
both with feel right
one will feel better
she will only understand the first
when she wants to cut her hair off
or wear her brother’s clothes
you will feel the words in your
mouth like marbles
you do not have to be pretty if you don’t want to
it is not your job
- Option A: Learn to drive while terrified that you might kill a person/ a bunny/small animal/someone's cat or dog/a deer and cry for thirty years.
- Option B: Accidentally crash car of friend and owe money to them forever while learning to drive.
- Option C: Get a ride from other people and be a burden on them constantly.
- Option D: Never leave the house.
- the correct answer is D.
There is a world apart from what we call
“the world,” where we are alive in our bodies.
I am not talking about beauty, or sex,
or anything you can see with your eyes,
but a place in which we become again
the original animal we were born to be.
I want to grow old here, lusty and brown,
For women who are tied to the moon, love alone is not enough. We insist each day wrap it’s knuckles through our heart strings and pull. The lows. The joy. The poetry. We dance at the edge of a cliff, you have fallen off. So it goes. You will climb up again.
You rare girl, once again, you have a body that belongs to no lover, to no father, belongs to no one but you. Wear your sorrow like the lines on your palm. Like a shawl to keep you warm at night. Don’t mourn the love that is lost to you now. It is a book of poems whose meters worked their way into your pulse. Even if it has slipped from your hands, it will stay in your body.
You loved a man who treated you like absinthe, half poison and half god. He tried to sweeten you, to water you down. So you left. And now you have your heart all to yourself again. A heart like a stone cottage. Heart like a lover’s diary. Hope like an ocean.