written on the bus from virginia to missouri, 2-21-12
do my looks please you?
very well. you are welcome to look.
do not touch unless you are prepared to be mauled.
there is a lioness sleeping just under my skin.
she sleeps lightly,
and delights in the use of claw and tooth.
her rage has been stored long, caged as she was in my father's house.
so when i come to you naked -
take a moment, before your oblivion, to note
the heap of armor by my side.
if i come to you naked, take note -
i have removed my plate mail, my chain mail, my padded leather,
my elven tunic, my amulets and charms
to give you the best part of my self.
the sacred rage, my survival.
if when i succumb to you, i whimper - take note.
i have moved mountains to release that wisp of long caught air,
have been long years battling to allow that softer sound.
take it not as weakness.
it is a sacred gift.
if i allow you to share a heavy load,
allow you the use of your broad shoulders
because my knees have gone weak, take note.
it is only because i have spent long years
battling the sexist hordes, have been swinging shields with every step to come so far.
so when you feel my weight on you, i beg of you, lover, take note.
it is not the weight of baggage.
if you feel frustration, run now, before i leave you in pieces.
see the heap of shields i set aside to lie with you, and know -
when i come to you naked, i come sharing what is most sacred and most secret in me.
what is most hated and most feared - my rage. and my ability to show weakness.
so, lover, when i share with you a concern, a fear
and you meet my eyes with grace, take note -
to reveal this need to you, or ANY vulnerability,
has cost my soul a great price. i have hung over that precipice one hundred times,
and i am weary of climbing back up alone,
supported only by my will and the words of other women.
when you have truly met me, and have not run or cowered,
i will look upon you as mighty,
and will delight to loose myself in rapture upon you.
and though you will end up in pieces, take note -
that my fire is a healing blaze,
and i will mend your long wounds with salve and tonic, tongue and touch,
and you will rise the mightier for it.
and so shall we both rise in glory to the gods.
do my looks please you?
very well. you are welcome to look.
do not touch unless you are prepared to be mauled.
there is a lioness sleeping just under my skin.
she sleeps lightly,
and delights in the use of claw and tooth.
her rage has been stored long, caged as she was in my father's house.
so when i come to you naked -
take a moment, before your oblivion, to note
the heap of armor by my side.
if i come to you naked, take note -
i have removed my plate mail, my chain mail, my padded leather,
my elven tunic, my amulets and charms
to give you the best part of my self.
the sacred rage, my survival.
if when i succumb to you, i whimper - take note.
i have moved mountains to release that wisp of long caught air,
have been long years battling to allow that softer sound.
take it not as weakness.
it is a sacred gift.
if i allow you to share a heavy load,
allow you the use of your broad shoulders
because my knees have gone weak, take note.
it is only because i have spent long years
battling the sexist hordes, have been swinging shields with every step to come so far.
so when you feel my weight on you, i beg of you, lover, take note.
it is not the weight of baggage.
if you feel frustration, run now, before i leave you in pieces.
see the heap of shields i set aside to lie with you, and know -
when i come to you naked, i come sharing what is most sacred and most secret in me.
what is most hated and most feared - my rage. and my ability to show weakness.
so, lover, when i share with you a concern, a fear
and you meet my eyes with grace, take note -
to reveal this need to you, or ANY vulnerability,
has cost my soul a great price. i have hung over that precipice one hundred times,
and i am weary of climbing back up alone,
supported only by my will and the words of other women.
when you have truly met me, and have not run or cowered,
i will look upon you as mighty,
and will delight to loose myself in rapture upon you.
and though you will end up in pieces, take note -
that my fire is a healing blaze,
and i will mend your long wounds with salve and tonic, tongue and touch,
and you will rise the mightier for it.
and so shall we both rise in glory to the gods.
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