The Ground She Walks On

I worship you, he said.

He said,

I’ll lock this door

And draw those curtains closed

And cut that phone line

To keep you safe from the world.

For after all this is what

We do with women.

We worship them like saints

Keep them like precious things

Protect them from temptations

And hungry eyes and the wrong kind of dreams.

See: I do it all for you,

He said.

She said, flexing her feet of clay,

Worship me then.

Worship me in the way they did

In the time before saints

When we were goddesses and witches and queens.

Worship me with blood

With heart’s blood poured out on the sand

And every pulse a song of my name.

Worship me, she said.

She said,

Say a prayer now, this minute.

And she flexed her fingers of clay

Around the trigger.

Behind the Scenes: For several years I was a crisis counselor in domestic violence programs, helping women and their children escape toxic, abusive relationships. We often called upon the archetypes of powerful women and goddesses to help them recognize their own power and worth.