From the moment she drew
Adam’s breath
she knew the ribs
beneath her breasts
were stolen.
The bones from which
she grew
were not hers to keep.
Her hands, man’s vessels
to hold their heartache,
massage egos
and cradle their droopy
eyed future.
Her feet, aching
to march not pace
to the sound of man’s
heartbeat and rage.
Her knees, finished
with praying to a God
who disowned her,
tired of kneeling
before men
who tell her
this was her purpose
from birth.
With the passing of years,
each bone would be retrieved,
polished and stored
in a museum,
next to the pedestals
men had placed her upon.
All that remained hers
was her spirit,
which departed
back into her mother’s hearth
of soil and roots
to birth new women
whose bodies are their own;
to walk freely
on this Eve given Earth.
Gorgeous Kristi!! I love the power in this imagery! Brava!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you ☺️
LikeLiked by 1 person
Reblogged this on My Screaming Twenties.
LikeLike
This is really gorgeous writing.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you 💛
LikeLiked by 1 person
Reblogged this on Brave & Reckless and commented:
Kristiana Reed on Whisper and the Roar
LikeLiked by 1 person
Very beautiful reflection! Star quality!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Oh thank you very much ☺️
LikeLike
You’re so welcome! I’m thrilled to have been introduced to such a tender voice of poetry, and meaningful as well. Lovely all round presentation.
LikeLiked by 1 person
You’re too kind! Thank you again ☺️
LikeLike
Reblogged this on cabbagesandkings524 and commented:
At The Whisper And The Roar, Kristiana Reed considers an ultimate victory for Eve.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you ☺️
LikeLiked by 1 person
This is just fantastic. Thank you for sharing this one.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you 💛
LikeLiked by 1 person