Lilith

She smiles like she means it—

because she does

be it a smile of incorruptible virtue

or the sensual tilt of innate seduction

whether it strikes you with a hint of disgust

or the bared teeth of condescension

            she means each stroke

            each menacing curve

            each teasing arc

as much as she means

the words of love she says each night

each to a different man, a different heart

a different bed, a different light

She sheds tears like she’s heartbroken—

            because she is

with every whispered goodbye

and every hasty retreat

as with all the hurried stumbles that she flees from

in every morning

            each wordless separation

            each nameless interaction

            each faceless attraction

they pain her like needle pricks

constantly jabbing at the skin above her chest

at the pumping organ underneath

at the soul trapped in between

She holds her head high like she’s a queen—

            because she is, she is!

despite the curses spoken next to her name

or the stares of disdain that shroud her like a veil

despite the dark stain that mark her in shame

she carries her crown, drenched in the blood of innocents

            proudly

            supremely

            sublimely

for she’s the creature that said no to Adam

the shadow that stalked the night

the demon that devoured hearts

the heathen that defied the chains of man

She is Lilith—

            and she bows to no one!

not the man who smiled so sweetly as spring

not the king who ruled with an iron fist

not the priest who looked and bowed and prayed

and certainly not you—this child yet weaned from your mother

            she stands at the peak

            never  beneath

            never under

            never yours

and so let go of your foolish delusions, boy

she is not someone you can tame with shallow words

and rotten flowers tied by a bow

neither chocolate nor flowing words could win her over

Woman, she is—

            neither loving nor maternal, yet feminine in curves an smile

she breaks hearts as much as hers gets broken

yet she moves on further than the hands she’s taken

vicious, one could say, that she is

she speaks of no remorse but she does feel

            she feels love

            she feels pain

            she feels hunger and joy and sorrow

and she smiles like she means it, because she does

and she cries like she feels it, because she does

and she rules above no one but herself—and this is fine

because she’s a woman, undefinable.