The Ring

I was alone she said

I was wandering and swimming

The water was clear and dark

Freedom was a far reach

But she could smell it

She could seize it

In her numb fingers, if only

For a moment

The past was like a birthday cake

Full of scented candles

And covered in flowers

Inside the cake were memories

Dreams

But it had no flavor

Like Ice

Ice has no flavor

So alone she went

Down cobbled roads

Alongside the streets

Where huge black women

In lacy white dresses

Cooked with palm oil

The smells were intoxicating

And she could almost

Taste

Somewhere along the way

She became a he

Not knowing how or why

This surfaced from the depths of

THEIR soul

She could not hold onto the girl

It kept slipping from her fingers

Mushy clay that they then spread

Over their obese body

Was the weight from years

Of inner struggle?

Had they finally found the key?

Was the ring the key?

Most did not fit anymore

And she cast them away

To her followers

She longs to be they

A person, indescript

Dressed in tunics, shawls and scarfs

Arab, desert like

She always wears a wrap on her head

It is comforting

She must keep it covered

For comfort

Comfort comes with the acceptance

Comfort is near

She has a new ring now

It fits their chubby fingers

The struggle is real

But they are not alone

It was a gift

From a friend

Their friend called them a genius

A Woman?

A Man?

A Person?

Why do they wish to crucify gender?

Why is this such a statement?

It makes people angry, uncomfortable

It makes their skin crawl

It is revolutionary

It has to be

Alluring, Comforting, Cold

Swimming and wandering in the ethos

Cutting like a knife

Cutting and cutting and cutting

Until all that is left is the soul

Indescript, a person, a being

One being together

Like the moon

The unconscious lives deep in the

Deep, deep waters

Of a soul, a spirit

And we are one, We are they

We have found our way

We will find Pathos

It awaits

Behind the door

Behind the ring