she is the garden print

she is the garden
that grows wild
in places
no map has touched.

she is the butterfly
that broke out of her chrysalis
with blood still on her wings
and said “watch me
make art
with all the wounds
you said disqualified me.”

she is the serpent uncoiled
from centuries of suppression.
not evil, just misunderstood
guardians of knowledge
that tastes like her thighs
after poetry.

she bleeds roses
that bloom from the places
you’ve been taught to bury.

she is the erotic of eden
with mud between her knees
and the gospel
spelled in the curves
of her undoing.

and let me tell you…
you don’t get there
by following rules.

-

this piece is now available as a print.
for the rooms that need
a little more
“fuck your fences.”