Gratitude is pushed to indebt

a way to drown out

thought and feeling and resistance and rage

which are all underrated

when women do them

… … …

I have been grateful to women

some took the love and loyalty

they skimmed off my child need the wrong way

like a keeper of pets believes that love explains away the collar

only, ones who remember the yoke

… … …

Women have made this world possible

for better or worse

nothing happens but that a woman does it

however coerced

then blamed

… … …

There is more than one woman I’ve parted badly with

who has saved my life

not metaphorically

my gratitude to them is a messy constant thing

now outside negotiation

… … …

I will forever recall the injustices

private and situational that sever each of those ties

that doom me forthwith taxed to remain

as changed as they

open nerves arching raw static

… … …

We will always touch through our shared pain

even what we visited upon each other

even if we are not the same

or have taught each other not to be

underneath, the moon is rising

… … …

I will never forget the benevolence

that made each death possible

the women that didn’t have to give

and did

the women who gave to me

… … …

Sever is an active word

the force of repulsion is constant

the threat of collision inevitable

the threat of reconciling is constant

the fear of forgetting is survival

… … …

Not like old lovers

even when they are old lovers

I could never fall back in love with them

I didn’t fall out

my love changed

… … …

Each lifeline a trail of sand leading home

filling my mouth with hard spheres

I grow around my contentions

with the offhand, dismissive way their wrists flick

and the hateful words that make the grains burn as they land

… … …

Each pearl a real tool

something known that can never be unknown

each a vista unreachable by instruction

a mountain of women

a summit to hone women

… … …… … …

Every bone here is brittle with babies

all our feet are thick with veins

you can see where every belly has moved in and out with the tide

our dimples cast shadows down our legs

we have stopped fighting our hair

… … …

We are going home

she used to reach for my hand after dinner

during coffee

and she would hold it there between us for awhile

while I fluttered in devotion to her

… … …

We are going home

she pulled me aside and gave me something for the grief

said, “I spent my 20’s crying over men.”

would not let a complaint go untreated

not one

… … …

We are going home

she dragged that walker all the way to my wedding

we danced together for the first and last time

I do not know how she got home

I do not know where she is

… … …

We are going home

she took me in

said, “you deserve a chance.”

helped me leave him

even after I went back

… … …

We are going home

she took me in

had me walk a mile to a friend’s club

where she’d arranged for me to get in

so she could keep him from finding me

… … …

We are going home

she took me in

made it possible to leave him

then moved out

leaving me a place to stay

… … …

We are going home

she took me out

fed me, drugged me

drove me all around

dropped me off at his place

… … …

All the way home

some distance is kept

we are bound to each other

not obliged to forgive or respect

I will remember that

… … …

We are bound nonetheless

for all the misdirected rage and resistance

at least it hasn’t been bred out of us

there is still some wild seed floating in the ocean

dependent on the moon, owing it nothing

… … …

For all the silica and salt water

our time together is transitory

and so so precious

I regard you deeply

I will thank you forever

… … …

Originally published in Ursula.