I walk with your anger
tight against my breast
proud
that finally I can feel rage
though it is your voice
that lifts it out of me.
With your anger, I am a warrior--
an Amazon with both breasts intact
strong
enough to belive that your anger
makes my anger valid.
My anger sits tight behind my breasts
in a fetal position
nursing
on the strength of your syllables
bold--
defiant to the silence of my victim-self
still too young to mobalize words
against his organ-extended-evil.
I walk with your anger
tight against my breast
afraid
that finally I can feel rage
for my own person
against his person.
And my warrior-Amazon-self
hesitates.
A warrior does not feel fear.
A warrior does not stand voiceless against her enemy.
A warrior does not stand alone
both breasts intact against his story.
A warrior stands
strong enough to be both angry and afraid.
I walk with your anger
both breasts intact
proud
that finally: I can feel rage.