Lean your head
On my
Bare
Hip
And taste
Sweet,
Pure
Freedom.

Let these
empty
sheets
Cover this
naked
Body
Of mine
With relief.

Let my ankle
Feel
The pain
Of your
Passionate
Kiss,
As we both know
It is our last.

Close your eyes,
Love,
As you did mine
Once,
So you won't see
My shadowed
Steps
Walking away.

Take your farewell
And cover it
With clothing,
But it will still be
Too much
For our
One hour
Love story.

I never thought,
That one of,
if not the best,
Feelings in the world,
Would be looking at you,
And feeling absolutely nothing.

Waiting at the airport.
But i was waiting long before that
For him to show up
For him.
To show me something
That thing
To remind me
That we're in love.

Waiting.
He is late.
Waits.
He's not coming.
Waiter.
He is busy.

He arrives
But I am gone.

the world is a dangerous place for
daughters,
for sisters,
aunts,
nieces,
girlfriends.
she asks herself if she deserved to be
taken advantage of,
chased,
belittled,
grabbed,
hurt.
fear is instilled in each girl,
their rights withheld,
respect weaned,
voiced silenced
because of their anatomy.
filled with guilt at their mere existence
while rapists sleep soundly.
people say it wouldn't have happened
if you dressed more conservatively,
if you didn't lead him on,
he couldn't help himself,
it's natural,
you should be flattered you stuck up ***** I'm talking to you.
a man that goes too far is excused for being a boy,
while a girl walks to her car in the middle of the night, fearful for her own life.
a naked woman lying in the street is not asking for anything
that she doesn't speak.
why does the first "yes" mean "yes"
and the first "no" mean "persist" ?
why do you get an excuse to act how you want
but I'm not granted the same privledge every 28 days?
at what age do you tell her that she will be
violently pursued,
cursed,
assaulted,
undermined,
paid less
because the structure of her body.
Why does every girl have a heartbreaking story
that she was made to feel guilty for?
like she could have done something to change it,
when the thing that needs changing is the one that thinks "well you see the way she dressed, she brought it on herself."
I hope I don't have a daughter,
but a son instead
so I won't have to be the one to put fear in her head.

In the folds of the sea
That sneak about,
Like sheets blown
In a winter's wind,
From their ocean vaults
Where ghosts creep out;
Under the foam,
Tinged with sun,
Ten million years
Storm in the tide.

In the waves of the world,
Eloped in time,
I look at the clouds
Painted in the sky.

In the moors of the depths,
Driven mad with longing,
I hear the siren's call,
The sands of the beach stretch infinitely.

In the folds of the sea,
Held by the moon,
I see the ocean churned white,
Tinged with sun,
Ten million years
Storm in the tide.

I stare into glass eyes with a saddening
lack of depth,
we are all contradictions to the idea
of a free spirit
how are we free without knowing
we are yet released from social borders
our natural state
man made

We inhale time
not smoke,
lines turn night
to day
stuck with the same kind of people
no room to grow
instead we bury ourselves
underground

collapsed.