The Family Hasn’t Been Found
Those who see me the way time does
A flowing river you enter twice
Holding their words in the palms of their handsI am on the otherside, peeking through their fingers.
Name and form without distinctions
Paralyzing fear with no trust
Womanhood may kill me, but it also greets me with ‘dearest’
I’ll die for my body, wrapped in Sappho’s poems.
I’ve written with evil intent and great satisfaction
Because what I say is what I must
I am the woman I would shower with kisses
As if she is a traveler who has just arrived home.