naked from seafoam, she arose—
cloaking herself like a warrior
in the salt of her home
borrowing from where she came–
rubbing salt, tears mingled with sea
deeply pressing into furrows of skin
claiming it as her own
oh, that salt how it crusted over calves
stroked inside her thighs
curved around waist
over belly
spread up her spine
clung to fingertips
marching across breasts
zigzagging to neckbone
crusty salt armored her supple skin
giving protection for battle
leaving bare only the beauty of her face
which she sometimes veiled, too
as she learned to fight
her shield ensnared her roses
each petal concealing a wound
she held onto fiercely, as though it were life
sometimes, you learn early (or late)
love is not always soft
sometimes, love stands at the gates
protecting what is tender and not yet known
Paula Hayes is an almost, sometimes, would-be-poet living in Memphis, Tennessee, learning a little more about goddesses and the grace and beauty of the feminine divine power each day.
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