Daughter
by Nicole Blackman
One day I’ll give birth to a tiny baby girl
and when she’s born she’ll scream and I’ll make sure
she never stops.
I will kiss her before I lay her down
and will tell her a story so she knows
how it is and how it must be for her to survive.
I’ll tell her about the power of water
the seduction of paper
the promise of gasoline
and the hope of blood.
I’ll teach her to shave her eyebrows and
mark her skin.
I’ll teach her that her body is
her greatest work of art.
I’ll tell her to light things on fire
and keep them burning.
I’ll teach her that the fire will not consume her,
that she must take it and use it.
I’ll tell her to be tri-sexual, to try anything
to sleep with, fight with, pray with anyone,
just as long as she feels something.
I’ll help her do her best work when it rains.
I’ll tell her to reinvent herself every 28 days.
I’ll teach her to develop all her selves,
the courageous ones,
the smart ones,
the dreaming ones
the fast ones.
I’ll teach her that she has an army inside her
that can save her life.