Eden
Sundays, Tuesdays, Wednesdays
brought up in belief before it was mine
bible thumping, backneck kinda
indoctrination
on our hands and knees before the Lord
that everlasting ache in the rib of Eve
subservient, superpassible by the will of
men
inheritor of guilt and shame
wash over the imperfections of my human
skin, stained by you, stained by sin
baptized in the holiest of hot tubs
Panic clutching her pearls
there I was, down on my hands and knees
barely able to suck in breath
it was you who brought this down upon me
dyke and woman alike
only my sibling remained to hear my cries
Exile
Fridays, Saturdays, Sundays
like kintsukuroi, I patched all of her scars
folk will always tell you who you are
messenger of grace
it’s a different type of hymn I sing now for
myself; Mary, mother of Jesus, bisexual icon
feminine rage seeping through memories of
Who should have been shamed to silence
author of all things clenching the heart
anatomy of beauty marks and rapture
I’ll never believe a lie like that again
a double rainbow at the end of the downpour
I’ll start a conversation with her; why panic?
before I will rise and honor that inner child
what is the breadth of autonomy?
I’ll turn the other cheek if you do the same
it was written, written in the word
once more asleep in my sister’s bed
like we were children again.
Brie Baker (she/her) is a senior Theatre Arts major with a minor in Creative Writing at The University of Arizona. She is a 2025 recipient of the Hattie Lockett Award for her poem, “The Knowledge of God and Ego.” Most recently, her play, “Hero By Choice or Heart” debuted at the New Directions Festival 2025.