Domesticity

I have inherited a female agony

A domestic rage

I am filled with the persistence of women who came before me

The totality of a tortured line

taught to hold their tongues

I do not want to be soft

Like butterflies' wings or daisies petals

Like silk robes and satin sheets

Like the belly of a fish exposed to a knife

I want to be soft without being beaten to a pulp

Rage is not man’s feeble cry for power or attention

She is the cries of holy creation in the face of blasphemy

She endures ravish and ruin at the hands of men

Who conquer what they cannot control

Forsaken is the feminine, forced to fulfil