Day Five #coronapoetry – My Country

My country is a woman / asked what she was wearing when they invaded her land / like maybe she’d had one drink too many / stayed one hour too long / wore her skirt one inch too high / like maybe she should have just said no / like maybe it wasn’t forced, but invited / like all women, silenced / trauma held in cracked earth / stories birthed / from a landscape of scars / rust-red mud-red blood-red ink / stained upon the heart of her ancestors / a past not forgotten / always carried / never healed.

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