Blues Called This Woman
Blues as real
as the earth in my eyes
the stars in my tears
the scars on the
shapely form of tissue, muscle
and bone
the places that were invaded
and made to be war zones
where I fought back as hard as I could
and did what I could to survive
all the unseen hidden
sacred places
and the things I got tired
of talking about
yet still live in memory
and an occasional burst of
gotta-get-this-thing-out-of-me poem
things that remain relevant
ghosts
skeletons
inspirations
incantations
songs
poems
brush strokes
blues
called this woman…
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