We
So we meet again,
we women, who
have been scorned
by the explicit
sights of love (or
something that love
once was).
We women,
never moving,
in continuum,
sisters desecrated
and devoured by
miscarriages of hearts
and dogged days
under sulfur moons,
by the rivalry of our thighs
and limbs
entwined with
another's.
And each we say:
I beg of you,
I beg of you,
I beg to be wanted by you.
I gather around
you women,
brought here by
what was lost, and
what is now forever
sutured into our bones,
what we cannot forget
because we choose not to,
because we are comforted
and comfortable
here,
in this mess.
We women,
we find solidarity
chained in ink,
in words,
covered in
sleeves of kisses
and bruises.
And still,
I am
alone.
Copyright © Feli Elizab | Year Posted 2015
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