The body as archive. As witness. As the one who kept showing up when your mind couldn't.

Body

The body has been the one in the room. This week we listen downward — to what it has been trying to say while we were busy with everything else.

Moon marked and touched by sun
my magic is unwritten
but when the sea turns back
it will leave my shape behind.
I seek no favor
untouched by blood
unrelenting as the curse of love
permanent as my errors
or my pride
I do not mix
love with pity
nor hate with scorn
and if you would know me
where the restless oceans pound.

I do not dwell
within my birth nor my divinities
who am ageless and half-grown
and still seeking
my sisters
witches in Dahomey
wear me inside their coiled cloths
as our mother did
mourning.

I have been woman
for a long time
beware my smile
I am treacherous with old magic
and the noon's new fury
with all your wide futures
promised
I am
woman
and not white.

A Woman Speaks

Moon marked and touched by sun
my magic is unwritten
but when the sea turns back
it will leave my shape behind.

The Body Knows

Keep going regardless of setbacks
That girl wasn't the one
You are not one of many
Finish what you started
Head down and plow through
Lots of downs the flip up with time
Be yourself stay loyal and true
People are bitter and cruel
Vicious cycles nothing to do with you
That first kiss won't be the last
Starting over again with experience
Knowing better choosing to do so
Flip off those who doubt rising up
Proving them wrong being better
Silence the noise doing right
Never back down standing tall