I am chasing this thing that
always
eludes me. In the day he openly
embraces Man.
See, they’ve known each other for centuries,
shoulder to shoulder,
unrelenting hand in unrelenting hand
as they dance betwixt the world of fantasy and pain.
A universe I know all too well.
A courtesy we could never have.

Matta still in my eyes, limbs sore from just being born,
naivete radiating from my skin.
I trail, inquire, plead—
he laughs in my face before evaporating
observe.

I have a plan.

I could forfeit my mind, let ambition and sense
seethe through my temples. Knees the color of
my behind from crawling through the mud.
Pungent fertilizer gathering underneath my nails
as I plant hibiscus, mint and poinciana in a Man’s
garden. My body falling apart and together at the
calloused hands of my oppressor.

There must be another way.

I turned to the sky,
they know us Women well.

Every thirty moons, I offer up a sacrifice.
Take this crimson sea between my anchors
that Mother ordained.
Take it and give us strength.

He eludes me still.

I fight and I protest
and I bawl and I break down
and I stand up and I smile
and I make love to anyone capable of loving.
I am still searching.
Tactile, hard and brown like an egg’s shell
you can’t see this soft, permeable mass
yet it lives, survives.
*But the chase is over.