I loved you hard that year
When we rediscovered what it means to be a woman;that all of our breasts do not hang the same, but all of our backs have been used as bridges at one point in time
Our shoulders stay heavy with the world
I took your heart, wrapped it in silk fabric and let it sit in the left back pocket of my favourite jeans.
Making sure not to sit too hard so that you did not break my seams
When you told me your arms felt too heavy we danced and shifted our feet like feathers in the wind swaying to vibrations in Ethiopia, deep Africa, east
I took you home, offered to wash off your sweat but that musk would never leave; your oils stained my pillows
I let your scent linger for as long as it needed to
You took up my space and I didn’t ask you to apologise, but that’s what you’d been waiting for
You felt small that year, smaller than the atoms God made you with
How hard I loved you that year
I remember you smiling on Sunday afternoons
I whispered prayers around your hips like your stretch marks were rosary beads
Found myself mourning because not even the power of my words, prayers, could heal the scars of your abuse
Not even my touch could heal your broken bones from night terrors to butterflies
And you wrapped yourself back into that cocoon leaving me to wait and watch for metamorphosis
You had diamonds falling from your lips; you had jewels attached to your spine that I tried to massage out mistaking them for knots
That year you discovered you had jewels even in your bowl movements, everything you touched turned to sunrise
But I made you convince your body it could walk on water
I wanted to cut you out of that cocoon, to be selfish, to be upset I had invested all of that time loving you that hard
I was Moses, you were the miracle
I spent 365 days and nights with you on my back
Rediscovering with you what it means to be female; what it means not to hate men
Reminding you that not all of their piercing eyes broke open old stitches and not all of them will tell you “you do not love yourself”
That a man the same age of Christ when he was crucified would not attempt to make a resurrection out of you; to see how low your head could bow, how wide your mouth could crucify
That you have brothers that love you
What it means to love other women, thinking not all women are like your sister
To never call home what has no welcome mat
What it means to know your language is sacred, every time you speak in your mother tongue you are calling upon your ancestors – you will never be alone
What it means to love fearlessly and to be comfortable with reservation
That this is not the armed forces’ - we do ask and we do tell
I tried to make this process easier but I was never good at keeping things from you.
This is for the girl who spent her youth in the shower trying to scrub off the cancer, the black that wore her like a plague
This is for the girl that searched her insides for the vacuum that consumed her being until she was merely a reflection, a reminder, a shadow
I loved myself hard that year
dededos
germansingergirl
kianamaiart
titsay
baratheonpilled
pixelskylines
