By Misti Velvet Rainwater
Date: 8 November 1999

Radiance

     I am a scarred survivor.
     I was raised by dictators.
     I was raised before time out was recognized
     as the only acceptable form of punishment
     for a toddler.
     I am as hardened
     as any death row convict.
     My scars and tattoos are all
     on the deep inside.
     I have stared down death and the contemplation
     of suicide.
     I have stood alone
     at a truck stop
     miles from home
     and spent ten bucks
     on a pay phone
     and never
     got through.
     So moments of emotional, spiritual breakthrough
     are few and far between.
     Mostly, I am a robot.
     Usually, I am numb.
     So when my heart cracks open and tears spurt from
     my eyes, I remember it well and carry the moment 
     around in my pocket like a touchstone.
     Like when the Jewish lady sang the song in Hebrew,
     the song she once heard an Auschwitz survivor sing.
     She looked at me, smiling, and I shivered as the tears streamed 
     down. Like when I gave birth to my daughter and said good-bye to
     her two days later, my eyes almost swollen shut. Like when I was
     in bed with you our second weekend together...you came home that
     morning from playing golf and you called me girl and I was so shy
     and touched I was speechless and you wrapped your arms around me
     and there was love swirling around inside me and it got stuck in 
     my throat and you thought I was dissatisfied and unhappy because
     I was not able to say the words...