I dare you to do what I do,
dare you to throw the dice from my hands,
curved in scriptures and cursives that embed into my nails,
palms stabbed with screws, making hieroglyphics for future members to read,
My womb, a tomb stone of marked deaths, of mother, of family
Come take a walk in my shoes,
my soles have been worn through time and time again,
had to walk amongst men to get recognition,
had to leave broken females, the gatekeepers of pain,
for the sake of freeing my own soul,
now I am found at the feet of mother earth,
she keeps me safe as I sleep,
asleep under a nest of leaves, flowers, and with the light of the pulsating heartbeat of the trees that is transcended into the network of plants,
As I fell helplessly,
The leather in my skin toughened,
marked, beaten, worn down to produce material that can be worn,
a spectacular textile,
my skin,
what a show and tell it must be,
to explain,
all that lives inside of me,
lovers of mine,
be entranced by the game of eye gazing,
lets dig into the olives that are, our eyes,
dates can be fed into mouths,
to sweeten what cannot be unseen.