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on infidelity

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The Women Before Me and Our Demons

Saint or sinner
Saints or sinners
Pick your poison
Offer a prayer
How many of them
went to Heaven for me...


I think I thought to think...that I only, was the one adulteress in the lineage of my feminality, only to discover a distinct pathology of self-righteous infidelity. 
I sat to think and thought that only I, had committed the heaviest of sins and deviated from a heritage of holy sanctuary, to give away a sacred body to another mortal whom did not belong to me. Only to discover over hard drinks and sweet tea, that the wiles of me were innate, a passive transgression from the women who bled heavy long before me. 

Not that I want to give away the secrets buried with the dead or the secrets under the bed of the alive, but these demons were at the bedside of my creation, breathing heavy for me, long before I first to closed eyes, to form lips for a first kiss. But I would be remiss if I did not mention, I have a notice for every demon that would come to demean us, me. 

Notice to proceed--away from every corridor around my feet, every breath of air near to me. Flee! From my time. From the corners of my womb's memory and the daughter who came from within me. An eviction notice I give, to that which comes to perpetuate a promiscuous misery. To stir the extravagance of messy sheets and fantasies later draped in melancholy, for love is never birthed from unrequited affinity. 

All that to say, it is true, we repeat histories and destinies; nothing is new under the sun or the soft fall of rain. All that to say, the curses are not far behind the generations to come; we owe the liberty and beauty of transparency to every daughter coming into her self-reality. The women before me, how many of them went to heaven for me? Them, seated up there in the right hand, interceding for me. Love is ahead

erm...It is Well

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