We beat our hands into
the muddy ground,
centuries of asking
for more,
always perceived as
a threat
no matter how we phrase it.
Internalizing requests
to be less,
settling for
assistant,
vice,
“Mrs. John Smith.”
We have our own names
and strong bodies,
consistently colonized
by laws
and vanity
and men’s mouths.
So the pain
of losing again
to a man
who has no idea
that he is a perpetrator
is no surprise,
but just another
thing to overcome.
We will continue
bringing new life,
subversively
proving our strength,
beating our hands into
the muddy ground,
packing down the seeds
in the earth
to grow.
Brenna Lakeson 