National Poetry Month 2021

actresses insert two fingers inside them and call it rape, 

suspended skirts float a trapeze silhouette, 

a costly sunrise from between the legs

we talk about names and what they mean, 

when all we’ve ever wanted 

all we’ve ever dreamed 

is to be seen,

to exist in a place where your hands meet the knees, 

to indulge in concave idolatry,

blaspheme sainthood is a privilege for the weak,

no thought of aborted eyes hits serene, 

loud foul teeth bite into guns and wings

a house bought with the blood of the affluent,

is an ideal trophy for a serpent with a crown

a Medusa with no gown, replenishing what she destroys

with what she drowned 

a simple skin slip, gloved and weak,

no hand-holding only groping, 

a life full of plants you keep alive, 

a heart that cries when no one’s watching, 

a voice that carries thighs, 

a child unearthed and buried within the hour of being birthed

you carry your eulogy tucked in your throat, 

you swallow the crucifix around my neck, 

it hangs dislodged and gorgeous, 

a bleeding uvula

a kind gesture of insertion makes the Jesus in me castigate

I tell you that tomorrow you shall wake up tired but hopeful, 

that it will be good and it will be Tuesday