Doors hang more clearly than shame.
They were our first loin clothes
and our first captors.
When did nature become
this external?
…
I rely on the night,
Which leads me outward
into the forest.
Felling the moss lined ground
under our feet
I and other women
dance naked around logs.
God is not unhappy.
He sends down to us
the lighting of fireflies
so we can see more clearly.
It was not He who said
our bodies are our secrets.
Who would want his own creations
to be ashamed?
…
It was man who handed woman
the first apricot leaf.
He hid his woman from God,
for he thought
whomever could create
such blisses as full bloomed breasts
and round ready hips,
must be lustful.
Man’s fault was in
lust’s creation.
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