Today's prompt at Not Without Poetry, from Nikki Magennis, was "What do you hope will save you?" The only thing I can think of is writing. Not sure that's what this poem is about. In my estimation, it's fairly dark. I don't have a lot of hope these days for "things" (read "life") to turn out at all like I'd like it to. But I'll keep scratching away.
Tooth and Nail
There is no fight in her–
she is nothing but fight.
Constant tides, the push,
the pull, the shame, the pride.
Inside, all molten, all stone.
Outside just brittle shell.
Desire is her swirling wind,
stroked by butterfly wings,
howling through her primitive
forests of all she cannot let go.
Storms will rage and die away,
change her landscape, expose
her soil, her bedrock to touch,
to fingers that trace her edges,
and she will cling for life, sink
into her own flesh, in order to hold on.
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