If I cut off
my hands for you,
if I cut myself
to pieces for you,
if I pulled myself apart
bit by bit,
if I lost
all of myself,
then I would be perfect,
I imagine,
the perfect bride
for a man like you.
What a mighty good man
to have loved me
for the beauty I was,
but not the beauty
I have become.

This body
having birthed your children,
this body
having borne their milk-suckle mouths,
their fat-fisted grabhands
around my fingers,
around my braids.

If I pull myself
in a hundred thousand
different directions
and become
so you can have
everything you need of me,
perhaps I will one day
get to become
everything I need
of myself.


2 responses to “Independence

  1. Jones, you are an unbelievably gifted writer. Fuck me, I want to steal this and gut it, rip out its innards and put them together in my own voice. But I don’t think I could.


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