She is an eclipse,
a radiant beam of light,
a shadow-dancer whose feet trace the earth
like the women before her.
She embeds life with her spirit of rebellion,
for those who have no voice,
who fear being burned at the steak
like the women who came before her.
She knows more than she is told,
her breath a shiver down a naked spine,
curving in rapture to the spaces
between there and now.
And like She who lived before her,
clasped hands, bound and tethered,
she feels and remembers the pain,
the sacrifice of being all that she was
to be all that she can be.
in the voidal place of mortem,
is the bliss of her smile,