Words Breathe Life
Out, lost in the middle
of a literary mythos
the silent woman or hushed? Reduced to
ash, yet your verses remain firebrands.
I was kindled,
rise bright phoenix, generations fly
with you, scarlet, gold, and blazing
my understanding is fruitful
red poems opportunities for reinvention,
hair untamed a rewilded woman.
And you are so much more
I see you sneer at peanut-crunchers,
eat, consuming everything but ridiculous
men who understand nothing,
like you’re a teenage rite of passage insubstantial as
air, willfully ignorant, that your words breathe life.
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