secure this beckoning sunshine

I am woman.
I am here.
I am that which
all men fear:
that what he knows
is just not so,
and what is so
he cannot know.

The words ring clear:
Believe. Revere.

I am trans and
I am queer.
I am that which
all men fear:
that he is not
what he was taught,
that we have thought
and quite a lot.

The words ring clear:
Believe. Revere.



High Priestess I by Alex Conall is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.



crossposted to sunbowpublications.com

( two tales )



Verginia by Alex Conall is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.

( To control the future, control the present. )


this is why I tell stories (let it crumble) by Elizabeth Conall is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.

They say that women hold up half the sky,
like Atlas, one of two pillars to keep
its heavy weight from crashing down from high.
We hold it up forever, and we weep
because our daughters will be holding it
up too, with cooking sewing cleaning and
caretaking, never time to breathe, to sit.
Men so rarely offer helping hands.
They work so hard for money; yes, we know,
for we work just as hard, and then come home
for second shift, unpaid, as children grow
to learn that men are steel and women stone.
They support their half the sky with ease,
but theirs is lighter. Little help here, please?



holding up forever by Elizabeth Conall is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.