she speaks

but no one listens
she cries in the night the owls hoot their reply

her feminine truth remains lodged in her throat
like a jumble of linguistic jargon drowning

in warm spittle
her wisdom buried
beneath molten guile and disguised agenda the musty earth protecting a cauldron
of nurtured secrets

birthing and vomiting at once the Real woman
clutching her boldness
her complexity

frighteningly lovely
her magic stemming from infinite depths and her circle of sisters

she was incomplete,
a proliferating fetus of
cells enmeshed in purity and goodness multiplying at warp speed

awaiting God’s perfect timing to arrive

men revere her
fluid words
they carry prudence and unlikely humility there!
moses lying in the basket
floating downstream in muddy waters his cries gaining strength
the princess drawing him out
his vocal chords beginning to resonate a universal hopefulness
and red-blooded blessing
to live and speak
and drown only

that which must die

Love elephant and want to go steady?

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Editor Apprentice: Emma Ruffin / Editor: Renée Picard

Photo: shahadalharbi/Deviant Art