Daphne
I have no voice
As your hand skims my bark,
Your tongue tastes my sap.
You cut me,
Peel my branches
To crown Gods,
But you cannot choke me
With your seed.
I am already planted.
I remain,
Bent to the ground.
Skin turns to stone,
Veins harden to amber.
Do you know that pain?
There is sweetness too.
I am earth,
Swallowed by worms,
Eaten by flowers,
Allowed to bloom
Once more,
Then return to darkness,
Where hands cannot grope,
Fingers do not search,
And I am my own.
********************************************************************************************************************
Lilith I.
Lilith,
You were the first they called woman.
Eden and Adam
Could not tame you.
I hear your call,
Long for the pulse
Of your courage
In my veins.
The space of your freedom.
Your name is a mantra
On the lips of every newborn female.
She wails the wail of your loss,
Sheds tears for the longing of you.
Of you Lilith.
Lilith II.
Lilith,
How did you know time was up?
Did Adam pin you down,
Coax goose flesh from your thigh?
Did he say,
“You know you want it,
My weight smothering your fire.
God made you for me.”
Men made demons of you,
Spread lies to stain your cunt with shame.
Lilith,
You know truth and lie.
Being Woman
Does not mean you have to lay
While others take.
You were the first woman.
And you
Could Not
Be Silenced.
Sarah Deckro is a writer, teacher, storyteller and amateur photographer who received a bachelor’s degree in History from Connecticut College. She currently lives and works as a preschool teacher in Boston, MA. Sarah’s poem “Girl Looking Out” is soon to be published in an anthology by Arachne Press.