On Womanhood

I am no longer a gentle woman.

I have turned this cheek and that

Until I spun,

Smiling while raging.

I made light and tossed my hair

Though my nails punctured my palms.

I have watched, mute, chosen silence

With spine straight and sight clear.

Tears long since shed.

I will not be a gentle woman.

The seething boils blood and bone

Sours my face

Eyes slivers of dark witness.

Intimate with the secrets of sisters burned

I am not above calling down justice

Where dues are owed.

I will not pay this tax alone.

• Sheila