Stories from exile is a writer's collaborative, bringing you stories written by outsiders in christianity, politics and culture.

 

edited and curated by

nish weiseth

Rules

Keep your legs shut, you are only as good

as the parts you keep covered up

only as pure as what hasn’t been

touched, won’t you tell me again

the rules for my body?

 

Tell me how I should

be treated with respect, unless

a Supreme Court Justice is on the table

until, you have to treat them like shit

won a primary,

before

just locker room talk became the

unrepentant prayer that covered

a multitude of sins.

 

You forgot to mention, that if

there ever came a day where

a powerful man promised to make

you great, you’d offer me up

like Lot’s daughters to a hungry

crowd, my soft frame not too high

a price to pay if it meant we could place

our hands over our hearts & say in God we trust

hang the 10 Commandments high in the city square

and forget all the chapters before and after

where the instructions read to care for the

immigrant and the refugee.

 

Go ahead, protect the frail bird of my body

from transgender bathrooms, but shrug your

shoulders at the you can do anything siren song

reverberating off of the ears of every man

who will look at me today, and only see

permission.

 

Tell me how it’s okay for one hand to paw at

my pussy, as long as the other is

signing papers to keep brown people out,

how it’s ok for him to touch me, if you

receive a fair price

in exchange.

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