there is a hidden violence

there is a hidden violence i never recognized
til now
it was lurking somewhere
i could sense it was there that
feminine intuition

like every Body in soft or hardened skin
round or dried breasts
and the curvature of life giving hips

i couldn't understand why no one
ever cared to surface this thing
shove it in my face
(and all our faces)
and demand
recognition
reprieve

but now I understand that no one
could force me to open my eyes
my ears
my heart

it is me alone

it is all of us alone who must surface this hate
this hidden violence

turn off the mute
awaken the hushed whispers to a red-glow rant

be it detroit, darfur, rome or beijing

a Woman in her in her soft or hardened skin
round or dried breasts
and life giving hips
is worth the voice she is given
the thoughts she births
the soul she was born unto

we must give life back to her as she
gives to the world