Sorry, Adrienne.

A response to The Dream of a Common Language, by Adrienne Rich.

I was not born with a warm heart.
I belong in the winters of this Earth
which you so abhor.
I cannot tame with ice
with lips like these.
I am a woman, yes,
but my words are too hars for your simple dream.
I am sorry, Adrienne, but I cannot speak your language.

I don't need one bottle, amber perfect.
I am a woman
my wounds heal quickly,
quicker, my power allows it.
I am a woman, I am radiant
and I love this world for its cold.
I radiate my own cure.
My pain is my power.
I am a woman and I am strong.

In three square yards
with your aspirations.
I assure you, one of us will be free.
Since you can't handle the splittings,
the hunger, the silence,
you belong somewhere else, not here,
with your words and your language.

To the poet, Ms. Rich:
I was not born with a warm heart.
Adrienne, I don't need your cure,
your dream.
I have three square yards
and I am grateful.
My words are harsh.
I am sorry, but I cannot speak your language.

Author's Note

Written for a project in my Poetry class.
It's not the best, but I figured I'd post it anyway.
{ Mainly for those of you who have read the book. }

Reviews

[RYGON MASK]

i read it