Your misuse

hijacked amygdala

They can tell you

Because you’re not going to back down

You won’t sell your sisters for a side ways glance

You won’t burn your bra, you may need it to strangle someone

You have the same look

All of you

The ones with green hair and multiple piercings who say fuck off before you smile

The ones who rule the world behind the scenes and nod as their husbands slip inside

The ones who are glory and begotten and forgotten and eclipsed and insist

They still live

You can tell

Even as they spell it out in myriad ways

I am not your slave

You do not own me

But once I was hurt very badly

By my father, mother, brother, sister, best friend, neighbor, uncle, stranger

And I carry the brand around my throat

Once in a while when I lean over

You can see it quickening

I…

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Sudden Denouement Publishing Releases Composition of a Woman By Christine E. Ray — Sudden Denouement Publishing

If you only consider buying one poetry book this month, then I urge you to consider this one. I had the honor of reviewing it and I can attest to it being a superb collection of poetry from an extremely talented author.

 

Sudden Denouement Publishing is proud to announce the release of Christine E. Ray’s book Composition of a Woman. “Poet Christine Ray’s first printed collection of poetry, Composition of a Woman (Sudden Denouement Press, 2018) is a striking, fearless foray into the psyche of womanhood, both highly relatable and intensely personal for female readers and achingly candid and fascinating […]

via Sudden Denouement Publishing Releases Composition of a Woman By Christine E. Ray — Sudden Denouement Publishing

For then was our time

three-girls-having-tea-party-at-grace-mcmonagles-house-probably-seattle-washingtonIn thatched thicket of March
invisible webs caught light
staying our hand to remembrance
for then was our time, roughly
put together we stayed storms
our footprints bleaching journey
like shells without swirl
though you often looked
straight-backed and supple
against the long glass
like a diver of pearls who
caught the sheen and glow
they possessed, capturing
in un-rinsed jelly cups the
reddened lips of a child
with her thick inky hair
fastened by protesting ribbon
pouring out of her the shimmer

of deep-sea ancestors

bequeathing you immortality
as cast in moon light you
pause against time’s salty thirst