It occures to me that I posed a question for the men in my life and their answers though colorful were all smeared with the same hurt.
It seems I attract the lost that search for their answers in me.
In my mind,
In my sex,
In my soul,
In my love,
And are sorely vexed when they come up with nothing.
As if the treasures of my sea are their birth right to discover.
My answers were manifested for my soul alone,
For the questions I have bled for,
As a willing blood sacrifice to the Cosmos.
I scoured the heavens and you just languished on my shores.
Full of words like a desert is overabundant with sand.
My father had a barren wasteland full of sand for my mother.
He swore I was her daughter.
He thought I was his too.
I never belonged to a parent, not to these children who play dress up as adults.
-When he finally reached my country, he was dazzled by all the fresh fruit and resources.
Just like a man to approach greedy eyed and thirsty lipped.
They never do pack their own reserves for the journey.
They are always so eager to pick our fruit and eat it readily.
Then are quick to call us Eve, no Adam, I am not from your rib, I am not the source of your downfall.
I am not your judgement lapse.
I am Earth, root, and sustenance.
Your kindred do not belong to mine.
I am the great Revelation.
They are terrified of my unmarked territory but are also salivating for the acclaim that can be acquired through the discovery of me.
-What right do you have to lay claim to God? A God’s love is a gift bestowed, not to be expected but to be aspired for.