In honor of World Poetry Day, I’m sharing a poem from my first self-published collection of poetry and prose, To Wilt and Bloom. I often leave my poetry open for interpretation, so I’d love to hear what this particular one feels like to you, how it speaks to you, or what resonates. Leave a comment <3
My body, desert red,
more miles of water than land,
I want to make love of war,
kiss the fingers pricked by your raging thorns,
I want to lay down those who also look at all these bodies,
broken and desperate, and still proceed to break them more,
continuing to pollute the soft, sweet color of sun,
never buried in the horizon, days and nights the same.
My body of unparted red sea,
more miles of bondage
than silk freedom,
I want to make love of pain,
heal the wounds that still stretch through my veins,
I want to lay down those who also look at all these bodies,
empty and consumed, and still proceed to wreck them anyway,
continuing to uproot the joy of one’s womb,
never birthed into the world, life and death the same.