For the shes,

for the women who held in reserve everything but

what they betrayed in the fathoms of their eyes,

I dance for you,

let my laid-down hair fly

and skin sweat rivers

underarm and between thigh.

My laugh is the wild thing you withheld 

and the leap it was never safe

for you to take.

The salt this body gives up,

one gift I can give.

Carry me to where your bones rest,

I’ll bring the skull I’ve been handed

when calling guides from the directions.

You’ve yet to reach my dreams

but when you do

I know

your unpinned hair will be the least

of what you bring to night sleep.

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