ALYSSA SINENI
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​Poetry, video and art - Copyright 2021
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​Red woman

I will not write another poem
about a woman blooming,
finally risking everything for
a life that she deserves.
I don’t know, maybe I’m cynical
or maybe I’m just tired of flowers.
It’s romantic and poetic
to compare a woman to a flower,
but honestly, at this point,
I rather be a weed-
strong,
unyielding,
resilient,
and pissy.

I’ve had some colossal wars with dandelions
who not only kept claim to their plot of land,
but conquered, divided, and multiplied.
These bitches don’t go down without a fight.
Now, it’s not so important for me to claim a piece of land
or have my roots tied tightly to some thing,
but it is important that I claim my life.
My life.

And if that involves risking and blooming, then so be it,
because I have been a seed buried in a wind of lost days,
but now, I am reimagining a field of second chances.

Instead of petals falling,
I will send out a legion of seeds,
those unbelievably fuzzy white seeds,
the ones we spend summer days trying to catch,
the ones that make wishes come true.

​Because you know, dandelions,
they can survive anything.


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