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Daughter
By Nicole Blackman 

One day I'll give birth to a tiny baby girl 
and when she's born she'll scream and I'll make sure 
she never stops. 

I will kiss her before I lay her down 
and will tell her a story so she knows 
how it is and how it must be for her to survive. 

I'll tell her about the power of water 
the seduction of paper 
the promise of gasoline 
and the hope of blood. 

I'll teach her to shave her eyebrows and 
mark her skin. 
I'll teach her that her body is 
her greatest work of art. 

I'll tell her to light things on fire 
and keep them burning. 
I'll teach her that the fire will not consume her, 
that she must take it and use it. 

I'll tell her to be tri-sexual, to try anything, 
to sleep with, fight with, pray with anyone, 
just as long as she feels something. 

I'll help her do her best work when it rains. 
I'll tell her to reinvent herself every 28 days. 

I'll teach her to develop all of her selves, 
the courageous ones, 
the smart ones, 
the dreaming ones, 
the fast ones. 
I'll teach her that she has an army inside her 
that can save her life. 

I'll tell her to say Fuck like the other people say 
and when people are shocked 
to ask them why they so fear a small quartet 
of letters. 

I'll make sure she always carries a pen 
so she can take down the evidence. 
If she has no paper, I'll teach her to 
write everything on her tongue, 
write it on her thighs. 

I'll help her to see that she will not find God 
or salvation in a dark brick building 
built by dead men. 

I'll explain to her that it's better to regret the things 
she has done than the things she hasn't. 

I'll teach her to write her manifestos 
on cocktail napkins. 

I'll say she should make men lick her enterprise. 
I'll teach her to talk hard. 
I'll tell her that her skin is the 
most beautiful dress she will ever wear. 

I'll tell her that people must earn the right 
to use her nickname, 
that forced intimacy is an ugly thing. 

I'll make her understand that she is worth more 
with her clothes on. 

I'll tell her that when the words finally flow too fast 
and she has no use for a pen 
that she must quit her job 
run out of the house in her bathrobe, 
leaving the door open. 
I'll teach her to follow the words. 

I'll tell her to stand up 
and head for the door 
after she makes love. 
When he asks her to 
stay she'll say 
she's got to 
go. 

I'll tell her that when she first bleeds 
when she is a woman, 
to go up to the roof at midnight, 
reach her hands up to the sky and scream.

I'll teach her to be whole, 
to be holy
to be so much that she doesn't even need me anymore.

I'll tell her to go quickly and never come back.
I will make her stronger than me. 

I'll say to her never forget what they did to you
and never let them know you remember.

Never forget what they did to you
and never let them know you remember.

Never forget what they did to you
and never let them know you remember.

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Do Not Stand at my Grave

Author Unknown

Do not stand at my grave and weep 
I am not there. I do not sleep. 
I am a thousand winds that blow. 
I am the diamond glints on snow. 
I am the sunlight on ripened grain. 
I am the gentle autumn rain. 
When you awaken in the evening's hush 
I am the swift uplifting rush 
Of quiet birds in circled flight. 
I am the soft stars that shine at night. 
Do not stand at my grave and cry; 
I am not there. I did not die. 

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