what of feminine weakness?
the allegory to soft edges;
red velvet, forgone the descriptor
that is the savageness of blood and gore.
to compare all to a
summers day, moon-filled event in fair's
sweet light.
Lost, in what foggy temples,
are the queens of old
bearing daggers of familial blood
drawn swords in defense as they do today with keys
the parallel is uncanny.
Folded time, metaphorical blankets twisting and waving over an elusive item,
they blind the crowd with ideology.
Where is her crown of teeth and mined lore
(not daises, flowers in easy access)
her nails ragged as cliffs edge
(jeweled beauty? id think wolf first)
her steadfast posture, in straight back and ruler's gaze...
where have we taken her spirit.
to see all that is women,
is fair in surface and superfluous colours,
but there is nothing akin to delicacy
in detailed hair and curving stature
there is-
leaders and nobles, workers and inspirers alike
take away her temple;
she will always know her worth.
YOU ARE READING
NEW HEARTS & COLD SEAS
Poetrywhen they seek you out because they know they can, because they know they can get away with it - anonymity is your friend.
