“a curse” she called that door
stuck in a crumbling adobe wall
even bought the house to get it
and still….

not my problem, and I didn’t come here
to hit a wall, but I did
tried to get past what “the men” as
she called them said she painted
the men who saw vaginas everywhere
lies they said of her
oriental poppies, calla lilies,
red canna, I tried to dismiss

but in a black flower I’d never seen before
an eternal flame burned at its core:
a flower I kept staring at
black as the door she struggled
for years to take off the wall