Red Sea

for the broken-hearted

I married Moses.
He wasn’t Moses when I married him;
He was Pharaoh’s hand.

I married Moses
before something else touched him
before his holy brand.

We made plans
for progeny and pyramids,
to visit foreign land,

to cross the sea,
to be free,
but not like this,

NOTHING LIKE THIS.
I married Moses before we knew
the meaning of his name.

Buried Alive

Father a poet,
Mother a prophet,
Sister a painter,
What am I?

A puppy,
A pawn,
A people-pleaser,
my disguise from others.

I came to this planet
naked, unafraid and found
people swapped costumes
like playing cards.

A baby, A girl, A woman.
Mini, Miss, Ma’am.
Each a respectable role.
Each a code of behaviour.

But the customary dress
now gives me hives.
Do I disrobe & be deemed a liar,
or do I stay buried alive?

 


 

Word Prompt: Illusion