Woman (In Progress) -by Chantay "Legacy" Leonard

[Chantay Legacy Leonard]

My life is a remix of goddamns and good times.

Soul sampled in the mouths of unborn babies, looped as winds through weeping willows,

Hooked by Horus and the chorus is sung by moonbeams.

Mastered by

Nun.

My prayers are poems wrapped in rose petals and rainstorms.
Men walk on my waters.
Lost to the mysteries of this maroon cathedral.
Humming breathes and heart beat meditations.
Gestation within these sacred walls.

Hallowed it be my womb…

Glowing white suns incubate
within my indigo blues.
Scarlet tears bled into the palm of God
Smeared across the sky to create sunsets.
He called it good on the 7th day.

On the 8th day I wept for the octaves
of breathes
Never drawn from inflamed breasts.
So that my daughters could scream
Their discontent with the force
To shatter stars into tin pieces.
Silver bought the death of the first Savior
Woman-child, save thyself.

They will afterbirth your identity
As a stem cell research project
Just to reproduce you.
Gun blast your soul.
Watch bulletproof wombs
Project them back as Black babies.
My seeds grow on concrete, dirty rainwater
and fractured sunlight.

The night is a faithless lover.
Paint your body with stardust.
Place diamonds on your pupils.
Dilate your equator.
The Earth tremors.
Bombs not of Gilead.
Men will war-ship you.
Snatch the feathers from your shoulders.
Wear them as headdresses.
Wear your soot as their sorrow
When the rain no longer falls from your eyes.

You will balance the Universe on thighs
Spread in surrender.
Hymens rent for the land
You already own .
Stolen as the images and empires
You once erected in the spines of men
Who prey you with each Amen.
Make them call you Astarte.
She of the womb.

For in the beginning there was You.

The perfect void and darkness
Without forms and names
Profaned and purloined by men.
Assigned by governments.
Tattooed with numbers of beast.
Nine numerical digits
Could never number your planets
In the vastness of your galaxies.
Explain your dualities and mastery
Of multiple realities.

How the same act of surrender
Becomes an act of defiance.
Birthing seeds from ancestral bloodlines.
Tearing open clefts in your womb.
Spilling forth trebled waters.
Blessing men with more daughters.

You are the scythe of Death
While yet delivering Life
To devour demonic egos
That have planted themselves in your gardens
Plucked your flowers and drank
the nectar of your innocence.
Silence has recorded your laughter
As a reminder of freedom.

Your submission is subtle warfare.
You bare the power to destroy your enemies.
Kill their children or raise them into great
men and women.
Grant pardons for Godhood mishandled.
Graceful after being castigated since Eden.
Eve, will live yet to see her redemption.

The scales sit solemn within our hands. A single turquoise feather in the balance.

We are the architects of The All.
Final judge and jury of human lives.
Furious flowers
Petal faces turned to our Suns
Thorned; demanding our justice due…

Dewdrops
Are not signs of mercy but
proof of life.



My life is a remix of goddamns and good times.

Soul sampled in the mouths of unborn babies, looped as winds through weeping willows,

Hooked by Horus and the chorus is sung by moonbeams.

Mastered by

Nun.

Woman