Bound

I never felt beautiful before, he says,
I wasn’t grabbed like this,
I wasn’t licked like this.
I never saw a woman
Dancing so free,
I want to understand you,
I want to watch you.
My heart was captivated
In an unloving place for years,
I was guilty for
Wanting sex, for loving
Coffee shops or my freedom.
I took care of her, I provided,
And I felt bad for
Everything.
I read articles online
On ending relationships,
I was so sad, he says,
It was so gray.
Then I met you
And you loved me
Before you knew me.
I wasn’t supported like this,
I wasn’t loved like this before.
You gave me colors,
You set me free,
You showed me
How beautiful I am.

My love, I say,
You were so brave,
You deserve the love,
You brought all the colors
Yourself.

And I think,
How hurt they must be,
If this is how much hurt
They bring.
Aren’t we all a victim
Of a victim
Of a victim?
Do they even find
A moment of
Luxury in that?

Would their suffering have
A body of its own
If they were not bound
To the words of women?