I have two eyes
on my face
Two ears by my
head
I have two paths
on my way
Two sides to
which my hips sway
I have spirit
and soul
Together they
don’t run foul
I have two hands
too
One beautiful
The other
similarly so
One gets the
praise
And to heaven it
is raised
While the other
gets the chill
The isolation
and the frill
My left hand
It never gets
anything
They hardly
accept her
They hardly
respect her
When I stretch
her out
Their cultural
norms I flout
My left hand
Always to my
sides
So beautiful she
is
Like her sister
and the Great God inside
Wasn’t she
carved from dust?
Doesn’t she
bath?
Isn’t she
clothed?
Isn’t she free?
Isn’t she a
similarly beautiful side of me?
My perfect left
hand
Unfortunately,
the one I once left behind
Write with me
now, dance
Paint freely,
take your chance
Those won’t
shake you won’t touch me
Because without
you
I’ll be living
incompletely
My hand, the
first and same as the other
Like the two
eyes on my face
Like brother and
brother
Don’t run foul
Stay here and
flare
Don’t be hidden
from the world’s interesting glare.
No comments:
Post a Comment