Red Lights to Sunshine - Queen of The Road

 


How many generations does a red light shine before permanence ? 


Does the scarlet letter become a birthmark for her daughter? 

 

How long before I cast a crimson glow? 


 Squaw, whore, trailer trash, red-light queen, going to be just like her mothers. Epitaphs of a life not even lived.Their words fall like embers and ash on snow. I understand the sizzle and heat , but puzzle at the source of fire, tis naught I tending these flames.  


Their pointed stares, the shift of their hips, hands juggling in their pockets, stroking their manhood, rubbing their egos, licking their lips

 

My questions have answers. 


One or eight,  it wouldn't matter I am the daughter of a branded town slut, granddaughter of a whores, descended from a mistress and slave. The stain runs as red as my blood, our stigma, our birthright. No matter how many prayers and murmured verses find us on our knees, once again in supplication to a man, it doesn't wash off. We are not meant for man's holy water.


I haven't found my birthmark, but wonder if it is the span of my hips, the tilt of my head, or a place on this body I have not yet found. Maybe it is my ruby shadow.

 

4. The age in which drunken men think their wilted, tilted mushroom pinwheel of a dance can be showcased before me. Their rancid breath, shit stained boots and holler of delight as I roll my eyes and walk away.


 6. That is the age. The age in which men now think it is their right and now my turn. They wonder loudly about my tits, my ass, my sass and mouth. The scent of me must stank the air, for their women turn, their noses up.  Their hands clutch pearls and nails draw flesh.Under breath the "not my son" floats and stings.

 

 8 . And age in which I must be old enough, their hands seek violate where their eyes leered. In such a few short years. I have managed calm. Swallow my fear, hold back the tears. Ancestral wisdom from matriarchs past no longer simple advice but a call to action.

 

 

Square your shoulders, chin up, hands ready. Show no fear. Meet their gaze, plow your fist, sink your teeth, spill his blood too. They can't take your worth, just your flesh. You are more than bone and blood. Cosmos, chaos, 4000 years of matriarchs, our honor, your own dignity. And no matter, Walk like you own it.  The damn Queen of the road. Rise like Sunshine.

 

 

 

What road is a tale for another day.  

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