trimming mold

the must to win a race
with every side attacked
what good is vision?
held to be unflappable
the strength of women?
yet weary in these chores
don my lipstick carefully
trim eyebrows
stare into the mirror
what do i see?
not hope nor vision
only tired longing for better worlds
and if i must bump elbows
good old boys are tough
yet they will find regrets
into the future

there is pride, yes
and shame for steps
not followed-through

how do i face this crowd?
with love.
the rest will disappear
but compassion remains
well after rulers turn to dust

law lives on
women must
the must of choke
of throttle
journey longer than most men concede
we’ll look ahead

naming the future
working together not something
to be longed-for
but something here

are these lines wracked with fear?
it’s mostly pride and balance
will they know abstract truths
failure belongs to youth
direction now

all pivots on my smile
is this shade too red?



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