class nine

sometimes
i start poems with “sometimes”
because it seems i am afraid of
concreteness.

to externalize myself
in such a direct manner–
i’ve now become aware
that i am so
intangible

i wonder if i were to
run myself against
a wall
would i sift through
falling like clumps
of flour
into pieces
on the other side?

would i break hard
against it
shattering like a flower vase
hurled toward a marble floor?

or would i climb it
pull myself to the top
and stand proud to
face
the other side?

class eight

I like wearing
skirts.

My favorite are those
that sway slightly in breezes
shifting as I walk
swimming against My thin calves
fluttering delicately;

I find that they are so
directly in opposition
to what I have long clung to:
the hard, strong side of Myself
outspoken and fighting for
definition
firm, constant
rigid and fast to My convictions

I have not always felt such a pull
toward the
feminine–
for it does seem that skirts are
the true
essence
of femininity

yes, Womanhood is
about movement:
hair that swishes and hips shaking
hands caressing and lips cradling song

deeper
there is a strength, though
pain of birth and loss and that
one
time
you feel love that you know
you can never reclaim
the tears that fall, tearing everything inside
to pieces
and the scars that grow in the place of absence
building, building, growth and regrowth
soul skin that’s so tough you couldn’t puncture

Woman, not weakness.

and so
My skirt
shifting, fluttering around
the solid structure of self
hidden underneath