Inklings 2025

The Poetry of a Woman Eva Cunningham ’27 a poet is same as a rose intricate beauty yet a devastating curse to be blindingly lovely but terribly starved of the light of the bright sun, for we live in the night a rose is same as a dagger as thorns etch complex stories into our skin in a language unknown as the blood that we store overflowing with words we savor forevermore a dagger is same as a spider a danger unseen in the darkest of shadows unwanted and therefore never existed at all if they kill the spider, then where is the sword? a spider is same as a girl as by force our sense of belonging crawls out of our lungs men take the courage they fear from our hearts so as good as dead were the venomous spider webs we spun a girl is same as a woman having grown to the trees yet still a child in their eyes yet it is power we receive from their permanent underestimation of the dagger and the spider, of the rose and of the girl a woman is same as a poet our eyes seeing more than a man could ever know for we are the hunters who lie in the grass down low waiting to prove how our words could strike them down from below 25