Day 54 of 100 Poems/100 Days

Her Figments

She set the example,
a dance with no comparison,
with no end in sight,
just the start and the middle.

She said:
“With these hands,
I could’ve built God’s house,
could’ve dragged the clouds behind me,
across the sky’s belly,
like a pilot in flight,
so the rhythm of bone would’ve impressed,
and made you ask for more.”

“But forgive them!
They mistook you for a mistake,
and drew lines,
as if war was on the horizon,
as if there were no kinship,
or between you they found an awesome distance.”

But you danced!
And paraded in your dresses,
wore your pride like a crown,
and listened to the make-believe,
until it took you back home.

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