Women

We are the bookworms nestled firmly in our fruit
unshaken by the raging dance around us.
rubber and pavement melt together in irrelevancy
while we conquer vast kingdoms
and save our princes in distress.
We are the sunkissed warriors of childhood's sloppy seconds
knotted and bleeding from our hair to our knees
our ankles lapped by the seas
churning with fairytale magic
which must eventually wash ashore.
We are the bleeding fruit of the future
generations in the shaking palms of our hands
on the brink of power waiting to be stolen
by the boys who once feared us and politicians
who fear our goddess-given control of ourselves.
We are the ancients and the forevers
throwing beauty to the wind
infecting everything when his back is turned
infecting him to his face.
our actions are eternal and contained by no one.
We are the hurricane to top the list.