“Heroine” by L. Francis

“Heroine” by L. Francis


I regret that revelation is required for resistance —
the idea that I must offer some inch of flesh to
steep the shadows of my intentions,
to bloom into something more perfect
smooth, fully articulated
like the tea that cools
on my desk.

The bend of my nose, the blue of my eye,
the crisscross of marks obtained
through hysterical experiences;
these required testaments
to the validity
of my femininity
I contain…

Depressive episodes and yellow-tinted memories;
childhood fears that sleep in bare cots;
broken-hearted verse carried
on currents that sweep
oceans deeply sleeping
waiting on the sun.

Unstable heights that look down upon the
cliffs Hopkins rolled agonies upon
and shake there asking again
for comfort, for the wind
to calm the spasm
that disarms these
bottomless lungs.

Mirror-eyed riverside calm, channeling the mountains
through their tributaries as if I was
calm between these shoulders
that bracket in an
inconsistent and
runaway heart

I regret that I cannot keep to myself the definitions
of these contradictions, nor own the enigmatic
sigh of the conventional heroine.
This is an age of nakedness
and I am a product of
words other artists
abandoned to live
relevant lives.

L. E. Francis writes poetry and fiction. Her website is nocturnical.com.

Category : Issue Four April 2017 Tags :

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