14.  Something a Little More Worthy

I've lived with a low

capacity for trust,

so when you tell me

there's nothing to fear,

I fly in the face of a truth

whose roots were born

in the belly of another human.

I think I could just quickly

run my finger through

the long line of men

whose history precedes them,

dusting off my feminist ideals

and pressing them against each

lobe just to see the way the light

shines off them.

But then it always comes back

to what He did, bloodied and broken

and giving over everything He

had for nothing more than a slap

in the face.

So who am I to fear man's

low standards or distrust

your moves before you've

even made them? Maybe

it would behoove me

to take a page out of His

story, my very soul rumbling

through time and material,

giving all I have in a vulnerable

wink to serve something a little

more worthy than the dark-tinged

voice whispering close to the sparkle

of my lobes.