Not That One Poem by Meena Kandasamy

Find me another word
that is not so ready. I want 
a word that waits and weeps 
and hesitates, that knows 
of other words I kill, and 
grows afraid to take its place. 
Find me a word that has heard 
of a woman afraid of losing a man 
she does not have, find me a word 
that flinches at the thought of being 
trapped, a word that shows me 
stealing time, not men. 
Find me a word that is not so safe.
A word for a woman in a forest 
to wake up with, a woman who 
knows heat and long silences
and sleepless nights, a woman
who works with only words.  
Not love, dear poet. 
Find me another word.