JUST A WOMAN
Use it as/ a cup from which to drink today / like a woman who isn’t a mother: / just a woman, just a girl who wants/ to sit in this chair with no need / to get up real soon, who wants warm/ light to love all of her back, who/ wants a sip of cold clear water. ---From “Song Without Strings” by Luisa Igloria, Via Negativa, 12-20-11
Warm light on the back are familiar fingers
but they will not be back as caresses again.
They can only unravel bandages of wounds
that will not heal but will not feel any pain.
I am done with them. All feelings betray us
before they become clear: they sap courage,
and quickly turn into skeletons of passion.
I want to be a woman, not a chair to catch
torn and tired bodies that need mending.
I, too, hanker for strength from the strong,
unquenchable hunger I could eagerly satisfy
when it finds its harbor and home in a place
I, and only I, can shape or rearrange or own,
or drink like a glass of cold water to cool me
down when I have no more need for loving.
---Albert B. Casuga