To the girl

who tempers her man with

soft footfall and

silenced heart -

To the girl whose altered eyes

show striations of hurt, angled

at forty-five degrees

​a tumultuous past

no desperate smile can hide -​

To the careful girl who

does not let him see

her calculations on the backs

of receipts

​jostled handwriting

estimating what it would take –


To the girl who is always alert,

ear to the ground

​divining which man

will walk though that door

​sour at the sound of

the garage opening -

To the girl who follows his fingers across her hills and valleys

in the aftermath of the day

​taking what pleasure she can find

​each orgasm a seismogram

of the hatred she tries so hard 

     to control -


To the girl who calls on God

but doesn't listen when 

He says "Enough" -

To the girl who believes she deserves each bruise

for not protecting her

children -

To the frightened girl

who smoothes wrinkles,

    I say:​

Let there be Mountains