Mine

The only mine I've ever known

has been hard-fought, hard-won,

all bloody knuckles and broken ribs,

all set shoulders and subtle sneer--

won't take no for an answer,

defiance the only way I know.

It's a mine of hard edges, of

brick walls and asphalt, of

bribes and violence, of

fuck around & find out.

It's a mine I have pried from

the sharp-toothed jaws of bloodsuckers,

the princes of the city who look at me

and see pawn, plaything, potential. It

is a mine they think is theirs,

like I haven't sowed the bones

of uprising beneath their dead noses,

like I can't think like a king, break

their rules, their bullshit boundaries

that have never known a thing like me.

It is a mine so different from this,

from your secondhand fearlessness,

from your absence of complication,

from this quiet inside me, bodies

a riot, a revolution, a revelation--

it is a mine so etched in my bones

that I know you aren't mine at all:

a wildflower in the mausoleum,

a rebellion of yeses,

a reason to rise up &

still...

I'mma say it anyway.