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I Will Tell Her about Icarus

By Patricia Davis

about his sister how she
to be light

built night in her ribs
       cage strangled
the moon how a fine

down feathered her
       crept from sternum
to navel

how her foot
       bones ached
from the ground

when a woman
       is left with no

when she forgets
       to counsel
her shadow

forgets to wind it
     out like lace
when the sky

is too blank too
     wide she might
make blades

of her shoulders
     raise ridges of bone
wait to fledge

Jesus humble
       poor despised
would be a woman

today obese in white pants
    butt dimples
pocking the fabric

Jesus crucified
       a woman
young pockets

and mind full of riches
angling a mirror

to see how her
     butt might be

how hunger
     could make it
lovely bearable

     I will tell
my daughter so

she knows
     her body the body
of every woman

is sun

the body
     of every woman
is God

Added: Tuesday, July 15, 2014  /  Used with permission.
Patricia Davis
Photo by: Johannes Markus

Patricia Davis' poems have appeared in Poet Lore, Salt Hill, the Atlanta Review, Quiddity, Adrienne Rich: A Tribute Anthology, and Smartish Pace. Her translations of Cuban poetry have been published in Spoon River Poetry Review, Puerto del Sol, and the New Laurel Review. Her chapbook, The Water that Broke You, was published by Finishing Line Press.

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