Mixed Messages

What are you, a Jezebel?
Why paint her?

Is she a human female?
Why shouldn’t she look like one?

Why would you buy that?
White is only for baptisms and funerals.

Why not buy it? It’s beautiful.
We could just add a scarf.

I’m going to pack us all up
If she doesn’t immediately obey me.

She is doing what you asked;
She’s helping me. Did you change your mind?

She’s an apostate going to hell,
And that hair looks like hell.

That’s not your call; that belongs to Jesus.
It’s just hair. Will you grow up?

She sits alone–
Outside the fray–
Watching, listening–
Knowing she brings the storm.

Reason wrestles illogic
As genders go round and round.
The world and faith intertwine,
Leaving her too tightly wound.

It’s all about the surface
And how heart reaches surface.
Does surface reflect the heart?
Feelings hide behind the wall.

The voices silenced still rage on.
Her own voice aborted in the din.
From beyond the grave they still shout
While nothing she responds can come out.


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