our dead behind us-audre lorde

from There Are No Honest Poems About Dead Women:

“cadences of dead flesh

obscure the vowels.” (61)



2 thoughts on “our dead behind us-audre lorde

  1. from Sisters in Arms:

    …I reach for your sweetness
    but silence explodes like a pregnant belly
    into my face
    a vomit of nevers

  2. Stations:

    Some women love
    to wait
    for life for a ring
    in the June light for a touch
    of the sun to heal them for another
    woman’s voice to make them whole
    to untie their hands
    put words in their mouths
    form to their passages sound
    to their screams for some other sleeper
    to remember their future their past

    Some women wait for their right
    train in the wrong station
    in the alleys of morning
    for the noon to holler
    the night come down.

    Some women wait for love
    to rise up
    the child of their promise
    to gather from earth
    what they do not plant
    to claim pain for labor
    to become the tip of an arrow to aim
    at the heart of now
    but it never stays.

    Some women wait for visions
    that do not return
    where they were not welcome
    for invitations to places
    they always wanted to visit
    to be repeated.

    Some women wait for themselves
    around the next corner
    and call the empty spot peace
    but the opposite of living
    is only not living
    and the stars do not care.

    Some women wait for nothing
    to change and nothing
    does change.
    so they change


    pack light, muthafuckas.

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