sometimes i feel like i’m two creatures caught
skin, sharing one body.
my tongue rough- sandpaper, broken glass, too many curses
while the lips around it burn with apologies, a broom sweeping up the mess
of another woman.
i feel like there are two animals
each fighting for their right to shine through
they’re voracious in this battle— it surprises me that their clawstalonssteeth don’t break through the thin expanse of flesh to the outside.
i have two women living within my skull
one wildroughfighting— slinging glasses and insults.
face paint, bones and bottle trees, fire and ash
wet pine needels under bleeding feet.
the warrior, Artemis. laughdancing through flames.
a bear, a wolf, a cat, a bird. animal in nature.
the other fights with words.
elegant, gentle, soft, break able, everything the other
cannot afford to be.
goddess of the hearth, she feeds her comrades like children
keeps fires stocked with woods
and binds bleeding arms.
this woman carries pitchers of water
writes sweet letters to missing friends and lovers.
am I some crude splice of these creatures?
am I a bastard of these mothers— each passionate
one biting, brackish tides, slow moving rivers, still ponds
the other a warm, clean bath?
am I both simultaneously, or am I wearing one face while the other
watches behind mine eyes?
I am the moon—
full and loving, dark and hiding
and something in between.
yeah, that sounds about right.
something in between.