A Woman Speaks

Moon marked and touched by sun   

my magic is unwritten

but when the sea turns back

it will leave my shape behind.   

I seek no favor

untouched by blood

unrelenting as the curse of love   

permanent as my errors

or my pride

I do not mix

love with pity

nor hate with scorn

and if you would know me

look into the entrails of Uranus   

where the restless oceans pound.

I do not dwell

within my birth nor my divinities   

who am ageless and half-grown   

and still seeking

my sisters

witches in Dahomey

wear me inside their coiled cloths   

as our mother did

mourning.

I have been woman

for a long time

beware my smile

I am treacherous with old magic   

and the noon's new fury

with all your wide futures   

promised

I am

woman

and not white.