drink

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her voice, delicious, spiced rum
her intellect, clear, Russian vodka
her truth, painful, white lightning
her beauty, full, Mourvèdre
her medicine, holy, mezcal

intoxicated and wrecked

you will drown willingly
soberly denouncing air,
pulled into the depths of her luminous current

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and for women, womxn, womyn, womqn – who are difficult to love, click & hear

this

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have mercy, also hear Warsan Shire here, and here.

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Continue reading “poem for poet: Warsan Shire” →