Want to ask

seeing the echo of emotion of your ancestors
etched into the lines of your face
I want to ask the saints if they know you
Trauma has built up inside you
and designated moments shine with the releasing
of your past betrayals
that shining is implicit
like your secrets
rapture comes slowly
quietly like an animal
upon its prey
you have nothing to say
your silence is a huge thud
in the middle of the room of this culture

hollow, resounding

her anger was transformed
from raw screams
into a sullen rage
and resigned sighs
her body was an unwelcome cage
learning to articulate these particular kinds of pain
was a rite of passage
she wished she could give other women
but the burden in her heart only grew
and whatever could replace the original innocence
she had been robbed of
was too late