Cris de Borja

Come at me sideways
the way these dark clouds slipped over
sidling up with open intention
and no threat
Ever wonder why I let them?
Why the shadow
is as often as the sun?
Come at me sideways
and keep your hands low, and open
Eye contact is a challenge;
avoid it.
Come at me when I can move
because if I feel trapped
by a single, blocked doorway, if I feel cornered
One of us, or both, will have to be hurt
in my break for freedom to breath.
I’m a woman, but that doesn’t mean
that a wild thing doesn’t struggle in my chest
So easily frightened into rage —
I cross my arms to hold it back.
Don’t speak, not even softly
Don’t ask what is wrong
But if you can leave something to draw me out
maybe, this time
we can do better.

11/26/2011