Gray Feline Beauty

My caged Rage

paces behind the bars

of rules and indignities

made by the same tormentor.

Her gray sinewy body

is Michelangelo's Panther.

Wordless, she taunts me

calling me names

which I would never use for myself.

She does not believe

I am strong enough

to love her.

But when I reach in

to show her, stroke her

She licks herself.

Her bars melt to butter

covering her in a cloudburst of yellow,

as she continues to lick the butter

till it turns into the Sun.

Golden sunlight soaked

she shines, glowing from within.

Finally, she sits

majestic and free

holding my hand in hers.

We are more than strong enough.

My Body has a Mind of its Own

The more my mind forgot, the harder my body has remembered.

For no reason that any doctor who has ever seen me can diagnose

my body breaks into a song and dance that they cannot understand.

For no reason at all

my crotch smells of semen after months of celibacy.

For no reason at all

the creases in my pits, both arms and legs, for days turn redder than a langur butt.

For no reason at all

bruises that look like honeycombs take up residence for months on my shoulders and back.

For no reason at all

I smell like feces, and long dead relatives.

Since the doctors cannot figure out

what my body is trying to tell them, I guess I will do it myself.

Because there is a reason, after all.