Heretic they will confiscate your body

Torture it,

Turn it to death at the stake,

Why?

That heart! That head!

So much vitality, so alive and so popular.

Burn that body dead after a slow drag round the mountain roads ‘til it be rags.

There’s so much fear. The monsters weep and can’t laugh from the heart.

Remember it.

Before the priests wore dresses.

Before they felt your power

Before they privatized your life-giving magical powers

and invented shame.

and tarred your body with it.

Remember?

Before the longest war.

Before every detail of your most intimate bodily functions were split apart, fragmented commodities…

Words, intentions, involuntary urges, actual deeds.

Inventing a science of your sex.

Telling you which day, with whom and which position (actually there was only one).

Your back bent and set to work.

Your womb and your vagina for capital investment.

Do well.

You. Know.

You had a great time back then when you were free.

You had a lot of time to read and think

about things

in books

as you dared

to live alone.