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ourselves.

the universe took its time on you
    crafted you to offer the world
    something different from everyone else
    when you doubt
    how you were created
    you doubt an energy greater than us both
    - irreplaceable

    when the first woman spread her legs
    to let the first man in
    what did he see
    when she led him down the hallway
    toward the sacred room
    what sat waiting
    what shook him so deeply
    that all confidence shattered
    from then on
    the first man
    watched the first woman
    every night and day
    built a cage to keep her in
    so she could sin no more
    he set fire to her books
    called her witch
    and shouted whore
    until the evening came
    when his tired eyes betrayed him
    the first woman noticed it
    as he unwillingly fell asleep
    the quiet humming
    the drumming
    a knocking between her legs
    a doorbell
    a voice
    a pulse
    asking her to open up
    and off her hand went running
    down the hall
    toward the sacred room
    she found
    god
    the magician’s wand
    the snake’s tongue
    sitting inside her smiling
    - when the first woman drew magic with her fingers

    i will no longer
    compare my path to others
    - i refuse to do a disservice to my life
    i am the product of all the ancestors getting together
    and deciding these stories need to be told

    many tried
    but failed to catch me
    i am the ghost of ghosts
    everywhere and nowhere
    i am magic tricks
    within magic within magic
    none have figured out
    i am a world wrapped in worlds
    folded in suns and moons
    you can try but
    you won’t get those hands on me
    upon my birth
    my mother said
    there is god in you
    can you feel her dancing

    (ode to matisse’s dance)
    as a father of three daughters
    it would have been normal
    for him to push marriage on us
    this has been the narrative for
    the women in my culture for hundreds of years
    instead he pushed education
    knowing it would set us free
    in a world that wanted to contain us
    he made sure that we learned
    to walk independently
    there are far too many mouths here
    but not enough of them are worth
    what you’re offering
    give yourself to a few
    and to those few
    give heavily
    - invest in the right people

    i am of the earth
    and to the earth i shall return once more
    life and death are old friends
    and i am the conversation between them
    i am their late-night chatter
    their laughter and tears
    what is there to be afraid of
    if i am the gift they give to each other
    this place never belonged to me anyway
    i have always been theirs
    to hate
    is an easy lazy thing
    but to love
    takes strength
    everyone has
    but not all are
    willing to practice

    beautiful brown girl
    your thick hair is a mink coat not all can afford
    beautiful brown girl
    you hate the hyperpigmentation
    but your skin can’t help
carrying as much sun as possible
    you are a magnet for the light
    unibrow—the bridging of two worlds
    vagina—so much darker than the rest of you
    cause it is trying to hide a gold mine
    you will have dark circles too early
—appreciate the halos
    beautiful brown girl
    you pull god out of their bellies
    look down at your body
    whisper
    there is no home like you
    - thank you
    learning to not envy
    someone else’s blessings
    is what grace looks like
    i am the first woman in my lineage with freedom of choice. to craft her future whichever way i choose. say what is on my mind when i want to. without the whip of the lash. there are hundreds of firsts i am thankful for. that my mother and her mother and her mother did not have the privilege of feeling. what an honor. to be the first woman in the family who gets to taste her desires. no wonder i am starving to fill up on this life. i have generations of bellies to eat for. the grandmothers must be howling with laughter. huddled around a mud stove in the afterlife. sipping on steaming glasses of milky masala chai. how wild it must be for them to see one of their own living so boldly.

    (ode to amrita sher-gil’s village scene 1938)
    trust your body
    it reacts to right