the baleful primal

I am disconnected from the stars,
struggling to breath through a riptide
that wishes, insists,
I drop my shade beyond the reach of Everything
and subsist on weak milk and weathered leather
until I am deposited before the End.

My heart has been called too heavy, too full
all of me too much for all of the World,
but those who want it help me carry it
and befriend my traumas and old, persuasive wounds
as if they were their own demons.

and I, a removed nebula, an unplugged MTV cover of the Milky Way,
I dream of women that stride across water and through mountains
with a divinity that blinds me, inspires me, reminds me
that I too am a woman that can stride across water
and through mountains.