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Vol. I, No. VIPoetryMorgan Collado

The Chapbook

Make Love to Rage

  • love
  • rage

The wordsBorn from my fingersGlitter like bloodIn flamesForming visionsThat cause my heartTo freeze

Wings alightOn the lidsOf my eyesFemme FiercenessShe saysIs a birthrightTo powerAnd sorrowDressed in the colorOf gloryWalking through worldsWatchingWaitingWith eyes the darknessOf space

Chief SpenceSitsIn her tipiFilled with legaciesOf betrayalHer bellyAs empty as the promisesMadeBy white menBut she standsToughWith iron encased willFemme FiercenessCan toppleEmpires

I wantTo get marriedTo shields and spearsWear a wedding dressMade of morning starsAnd a veilOf daggersMake love to rageAnd bust openAcross six continentsRevealing the dismemberedBodies andBrokenLandHolding it allFemme FiercenessDoesNotFlinch

My friendStands thereShakingTrying toReMoveTrespassesThat mark herMascara runningNose bleedingI hold herImaginingThe most exquisiteRevenge against rapistsFemme FiercenessDoes notTakePrisoners

TerrorIs a familiarBedfellowThe threat of violenceA constant companionPale shadows thatDance across my bodyFollowing me downAlleysUp streetsInto homeAndSoaked sheetsTwist aroundMy faceFemme FiercenessFeels fearButNever backsDown

I amA fierce femmeA bigScarlet fuck youEjaculated acrossMasculinity’s faceThey do not ownMe and mySilence cannot beBought

About this poem

First published on A Trip to the Morg in .

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