Let me tell you what thumps in your chest —
it's a pomegranate.
So, place your thumbs on either side
and press, just so.
Did you know you held such jewels?
Your fear is boiled irrevocably into your light.
Your fear is guns and knives and fingers.
It is grief, and pain, and torment, and and and —
yes, one hurt for every pomegranate seed.
So, pluck each seed and hold it to the sun.
Is the fruit an amethyst or garnet or ruby?
Is the nub made of topaz or amber or gold?
Squeeze and lick the succulence, then
look at your hands, fiery as goddess-tongue.
Watch the crimson seep through your
palms and crawl under your nails. See!
Your fear is not as grisly as you are,
Touch this heart-blood. Take more juice
to streak your cheeks and mark your body.
Now, you need not beg the Earth to
swallow you as you run. Now, you will
know how to scream as the men approach,
how to rise and resist, how to fight and
"Defy" first published in The World We Live(d) In