< Issue 2 >
Defining Palms
by Imani Sims
born,
pushed through muck
of womb mess
through barrier,
into light
slide down raging waters
into this life,
cries echoing off stark
hospital walls,
swaddled with pink blankets
because they proclaimed
I was a girl.
born,
pushed through heavy doors
and down tile hallways,
school bell
rings and
hopscotch turns
to reading and writing,
numbers start to
look like symbols,
and formulas
shape the sciences,
years gone by,
mouth matured into
razors dripping syrupy sweet,
lure lovers like flies
to sticky,
boys chasing long legs
and covered breasts,
searching for their next fix,
but my feet stayed trained
to track,
leaving words in dust.
I wasn't going to be another statistic.
born,
25 years later,
poetry defining palms,
body reclaimed as temple,
sacred container for
wounds of others,
open mouth,
filed down razors
release sound,
tell my story so others
can be healed.
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