A Variable. A Choice.
A thing shyly revealed should be holy
obviously controlled by spirituality and politics
not self, like—
a womb, virginity, marriage, the body.
tattooed like Chinese letters on the inside of your lip
alarms going off at—
I’m pregnant, I want you, I do, this isn’t me.
But what is holy if not free,
if not voice,
if not brash inconvenience or resounding solitude.
Imagine that the opposite of bad is you,
nothing preconceived, prejudices blotted,
an empty slate before the war
obviously in control
and what do we now name this power?