deepundergroundpoetry.com
Real Talk
I watch her perch on a seventies chair
hair draped across her face
skirt meeting skin at the knees.
I look at her there
crushed
somewhere between woe
and the wandering world
as she talks of how time
eats her alive
how love fucks her up
as she fidgets with a silver ring,
chews her bottom lip.
I can’t help but think
how beautiful women are
in their fury
how they arrive
crowning grief at the base
birthing hope into lives and rooms
that hold no place for them
except
here
where one sister puts her hand
on another’s arm,
tells her she’s just as worthy
as a flower
or a bomb
Published 17th Jul 2024
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17th Jul 2024 12:43pm
17th Jul 2024 1:55pm
Thank you so much my lovely. Yes, it is about those wonderful red women indeed.
Appreciate you dropping in. Still the baddest chick in the place. 🔥
-M
Appreciate you dropping in. Still the baddest chick in the place. 🔥
-M
