blossoming flower: the memory of one of my women

I now know i have different women so many women trapped between my ribs they kill each other to arise and speak but each funeral is so glorious that you can't miss any of them when she has left her little hand print on my lungs i never saw anyone speak about breathing other people's air breathing the air of a thousand other women until i finally felt it. 

The day i found my companions the day i deciphered the voices in my head discovered why wine tastes different every time i drink it why it feels different every time i do was the day we left him we left him to finally find ourselves we left him to lean on trees sink our head in rivers watch small fish swimming until we can't breathe so we resurface to have the air greeting us again it misses us i know it does when we don't let it in it tells us each night when the moon joins our fire. Our night fire feeds on anger it stays alive until the sun wakes up to hug our skin illuminates our chest so we are ready to learn again how to sing together to join the birds the wind the water the trees then we feel the presence of god and we know we are right the history is there to witness it and no one can deny it