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Poetry for GBV 13 – Upon Realizing Women Were Born To Burn

Upon realizing women were born to burn

A woman’s body is a mote

an ash, to cure amnesia

when memory dies


forgive me for unburying pasts

but there are ashes sitting on father’s knuckles

where mother burnt


we saw flames and begun to run

we were born with kerosene dancing in our veins

and these men carry so much flames

we are burning

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