This morning we walked into the sea,
To catch a conch and listen to its wailings.
Instead we find lost thoughts, caught wandering
above the waves, momentary notes of colors,
voices vibrating from darkened corners, fish hooked and salted
in mid air.
Self hatred unravel our thoughts into stretches of
sensoried bodies gasping at each sand grain.
We stop to puzzle at the fossils under our feet.
For so long we've hated our selves,
burned and buried in our mothers' graves, yet
find in their places voices
to speak of ourselves, wanting.
Today’s ecstasy comes like the blazing dawn,
Loud silence throbbing across the horizon
and we are satisfactied.
We've finished each our share of the act.
We've calmed those nauseating urges
of petrified inspiration.
Suddenly it makes sense:
we are listening to desperate desire
and semblance of womanhood.