sometimes, the sky fades into
a blur,
at rock bottom you'll learn to tear
the ropes that have bound you and
in the lights of the sky, find this
distilled harmony that will eventually
at the back of your mouth with a
painful anonymity. this is how
you'll learn who you are. my mother
told me that women lose their wings
all by themselves or the world will take
it by force. take flight from
these cobbled pathways where
she has laid to rest all her percolated
dreams, the boys come in from school
as she does the washing, her husband
will call up in an hour and tell her that

he loves her and he might take her out
but might is the word he uses everyday
when he gives her hope she can't
possibly need. i in my white dress
look on with the sky sharpening
its lightening in me, anger diverged
into tears under the sea, under
the slab of distribution of sin.
the victim is also the enemy. the
enemy becomes the victim. when
we will grow old, we will burn these
shadows and imprint into childhood
because it is a cycle

but now, i want to live
i want to have the highest allowance
to love, and dream and open
the sky with bare hands because
i want to change the way you
push me down, if you like,

push me down but not so hard that
my wings close down on me
and i buckle
into a nameless blur