when i think of Him
i see long black hair in which carries
all the stars.
i see eyes that hold galaxies and places
i have only seen through telescopes.
i see lips in which have blown out suns
and arms in which cradled the universe.
i see worlds developing in her uterus,
sweat, tears, and screams
as she gives birth.
when i think of Him,
i see a woman.
but you tell me i am going about this all
because God can’t be a woman.
women are too weak, too simple minded, too
of creating whole worlds.
but we already do everyday
in hospital beds, in the back of pickup trucks
when our husbands can’t drive fast enough.
our whole body splits open
to deliver new life.
so when i think of God
i think of skin the color of dirt
representing her fertility and boundless
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