I am a daughter of light
I walk the territories of seasons
In wild daylight, when colors beat
In the twilight when sunsets smoke
And deep in the dense waters of night
I walk on my bare feet that flicker
As they touch the red earth of the world
The land that avoids recording certain paths at times
But always, temporarily, records the tracks
(which I ignore on occasion, when
What I understand demands consistency)
I am a daughter of life
I know about movement
I am able to move
(not only in dreams
seeking your warm body mine
— that thrill of finding you
when it occurs we are one)
physically alone
among the things that breathe, mutate
among the motionless
in and past geographical spaces and words
which fail to hold me back and
certainly, cannot possibly hold me in
This might explain it all
My skin is full of imperfections
They need not all be understood
It is not necessary
It is not utopia
It is not even a bad
It is simple, like saying
I am a daughter of light
Which is just saying that
And not
that shadows do not exist, or darkness
Nor is it a poetic way
Of speaking of
Evil
Evil is Man’s obsession
He, exceedingly ill
Builds restricted spaces
To play I rule
Pretending
he feels no panic In front of life
Playing toy houses, picking
Dolls from a catalog
To use them, press them into
Walls, thrust them onto
Beds of dread and grief
Playing Be a Man:
The Misogynist God
The Abusive Husband
The Rapist Soldier
The Psycho Merchant
Terrorizing women
Terrorizing men
Hurting, always
Obsessed
With metal decorations
Oh lord of the Patriarchal Universe
Arrogant ignorant
Cheered by all cowards
Incapable of listening incapable
Of reasoning,
Of controlling his fear
Of letting be or letting do
Incapable of living
Without assassination
I am a daughter of knowledge
Centuries long I know who Man is
I am profoundly familiar
with his boundless well
Of violences which he enforces
His booby words, his killer kisses
His countless medal coins
Sweating a fever of weakness, fear and death
All He touches turns into Hell
For Hell is all He can envision and execute
He has nothing to teach me
He cannot prevent me knowing
He cannot stop my movement
Not his walls, not his trenches
Not his prisons, not his graves
Which he builds for every living being
He has failed:
He cannot destroy my intelligence
(And I wonder what you
have to do with such an idiot, nor I
with his species, nor our love
with the ceaseless wars of
such an imbecile tyrant.)
I move on like light, trusting my flight
Shifting freely in space
In knowledge (which He distorts)
In laughter (which He demonizes)
In love (which He disregards)
Because I am not a daughter of fear
My source is motion
