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
your unpinned hair will be the least
of what you bring to night sleep.