You don’t want to be rescued.

I want to rip out the pain

the damaged flesh

of bloody violation,

and smear the face of he who cut you

in the mess he makes.

So that he suffocates.

I want to hold you

together -

not that you need me to,

or would want me to -

but to give you safe haven.

So that you can breathe.

I want you to know agency

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The December wind blows
over the Libyan Sea.
Hellenic blue water
crashes into boulder.
White water soaks
the walkway. Cats run.
In the hills, sunshine,
mountain herbs, fragrant,
mix with the incense
from the chapel.
The bells of goats
hidden in the rocks and trees.
A kid cries for its mother.
Late autumnal layer
still heavy in the olive groves.
The afternoon sun
teases out the unct...

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