Jeez woman, Who are u???…over and over again we cross paths playing a silly but necessary child’s game of feigning not to look at each other. Not for me… that’s how I counsel the inner anguish within me that stirs around when I see her fighting herself not to return interest. Looking around like a meth head at items on shelves she can’t possibly want, need, or use lol…rrrr… this chick!…yeah, I’ve asked around… bad girl…at least that’s what I’ve been told, but how bad could she be if after telling me after our first and last conversation, when I approached her respectfully and asked if she were married, she truthfully replied no, but that she is engaged. So…the testing of many souls in one affair. I honor other men’s fields. Our women are supposed to be our sanctuaries. Places of refuge where we can deposit our woes, worries, and secrets into without the fear of treachery and betrayal. People are people though… the vessels of an organ responsible for every birth and every murder on earth since our beginning here. The human heart. The bloodiest of drums. Moving the feet by its repetitive beat of soldiers, fiends, lovers, hero’s, holy men, and everyone else. This woman…the only one I chanced to even try to approach since I’ve been on my own. So beautiful to my idea of what I believe I want for me. But…no… my lord’s lines in the sand mark the boundaries of “His” sanctuary. So my fidelity to my pledge to obey based on my professed belief in him and his revealed way is on trial. I choose… to be blessed by the pain of obedience. Honored for being honorable. A bad girl? lol… ok…Well, I’m constantly myself being called something similar after every and all of my little adventures. The bad guy…good luck to u lady…Whoever u really are. Keep saying yes to saying no…salaam

Published by Pack Redfeather

I am a walking contradiction of traditions some say. An African American and Native American Muslim poet with a personal life history as violently turbulent as a Storm. A visionary from the bottom of life’s social barrel striving to share the hope found in the light of faith through sometimes dark but real poetry. I’m a former member of the Bloods street gang, former serial bank robber, and both federal/state prison convict. I live on my mother’s tribal reservation of the Leech Lake band of Ojibwe in Minnesota.

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