New Age Feminism
Poem by Leila Ired
I like being angry.
I like the wolf rasping at my larynx
the way she snarls and snaps at the back of my throat.
I may mute and muzzle her
but she's still there, straining-
I let her loose, and then
she does not want to
She doesn't want you
to apologize, to compromise
She'd like to throw you back
chew you up
spit you out
and leave without looking behind her.
I do not like loneliness.
But that is where my wolf leads me.
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