Suddenly, it begins, and you’re frightening
everyone, face a blazing furnace, speech
a volcano, veins pulsing magma, smoke
rising from your hair. You’re spontaneous
combustion, a nuclear meltdown, a bomb
to kill them all. You’re Pele, Kali, Lilith,
alchemy of the ages in your boiling womb.
You’ve never been so powerful. Now,
rise. Walk the land. Leave burning
footprints, like your mother and grandmother
before you. Straddle two different worlds:
let the roaring hell of your voice be heard.
© Lauren Tivey, 2016.
Note: This poem appeared previously in the now-defunct Negative Suck literary magazine.