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Q U E E N

1/4/2021

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She sat squarely
Shoulders heavy
And regal with regret
She donned the tassel
Frozen with fear
She posed
And she posed
Until her original posture
Was unclear
Running from the ghost
Of his words
Anger is a cancer
Resentment is a killer

It was all her fault they said
It was the things in her head
That made her belly big
That began to break her will to live
Not the abuse
The neglect
Or lack of paycheck
Just her thoughts they said
She loved the smell of gasoline
She let it light her insides
And in her most peaceful dreams
She swims in a sea of crude oil
To say all the words
She couldn't speak
Like fuck you
Pay me
Turn your gaze from me
Take your foot off my neck
And your hand out my pocket
Peel your lips from my ear drum
And all the words
You tried to beat
On my soul
I have broken down
To break free
She wiggled free
From the regal ropes
Braided tightly
On her rigid shoulders
Freedom heavy as boulders
Still lighter
Than the anvil of silence
That called her chest home
She picked up the phone
And even the dial tone
Knew she was different
Just by her breathing
The receiver began receiving

Her words like prayer
Take my to my river
Put me in my waters
Bring me my pistol
For the journey to her shores
She knew
Was surely littered with expectation
Of her less than
And those ready to fight her
To the death
For her life
They had the gas
But she was the match
She lit a cigarette from her burning
Tobacco smoking
Feet bare
Black and moving steady
Truth in her right hand
Like a shotgun ready
To blast the past into its place
In a white dress
Unseen in a field of tall blue grass
She could see nothing on her path
And still her vision was clear
The sound the grass made as it
Crumpled and cracked under her weight
Like the wind
Her presence evident in what it affects
Her footsteps like legacy
Telling the story
Of how we keep on living
No trial or tribulation
Will keep her from her shore
Take me to my river
Put me in my waters
If we are but one drop of the ocean
The ocean is but one drop of her quenching
She remains unrelenting
In her quest for liquid love
Take me to my river
Put me in my waters
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    I am a poet, for better or for worse. It is a way in my being that, ironically has no words. It is a way in my being that finds me when I, and helps me to, forget. I am a poet, for better or for worse.

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