Liberation

how many years have we been told

our eyes must sink like suns

behind the mountain men,

because warmth is an invitation

to strip the valley of its flowers

 

how many hours have we spent

covering our faces in flesh-toned tarps

to keep the rawhide in

and the tired out

 

how many times have we cradled

our sagging skin like babies,

damp from neglected tears

and swollen from the sting of

unattainable perfection

 

vanity is a word they made up

to excuse their expectations of

soft but firm

sweet but assertive

pure but provactive

wise but ageless

 

now when my eyes

are trapped in glass,

I liberate them with

a gap-toothed grin

and tell the world

it can’t have me

 

4-29-19

 

 

 

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