Poem: Stranger, My Body

What is this trembling that stalks my body so

Electric pain taking delight, making my body

Feel like a needful unknown stranger;

Clamouring, demanding, hiding me from myself

Replacing pieces of me with turbulence

Constricting  and stretching muscle at will;

I close the door, it creeps in through the window

I lock the window and its porous gas seeps

through my skin, heat seeking;

Fog, moving through my head and scattering

My memories abroad, to seek asylum

And be discovered some other summer;

My will lines up its scarce resistance fearing

Useless dependence and told that it is

my feminine madness; a woman, hysteric.

Yet betwixt the stranger and that madness that some

seek to apply to me, and call it calm –

I sometimes weep quietly for your strong arm.

 

 

 

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Poem: A Further Question…

So, our bodies

do not work

the way convention says they should;

But, it means

we can explore

the endless ways love can reveal

the different ways to live

the love we are both

truly worth

And if the place

we leave to make

that life of endless exploration

is not the place convention

might demand;

it matters not

when the place of destination

is still – naturally –

the love and joy

we are both worth