they knock on my doors
as oppressions, contexts,
mysteries, visions
clank around their bruised ankles.

feebly mothered, unAmazoned,
& believing  i know
where keys are hidden,
which syllables are for naming,
how heaven might be entered,
or who our guides are
these untribed daughters
tempt my ego
with invitations.

intellectually & emotionally bowing
before some throne
they imagine me onto
i am them
multiplied, subtracted, divided & added.