I see a womyn, beautiful, dark hair & eyes
Silent, by his side
I have heard her say 3 words to his 3,000
Muttered softly beneath his bellowing breath
She is always beside him, or behind him
Beyond him, in her silent beauty
A magic that he, in his earnest, does not possess
She is wearing her skin like a shield
Her clothing a barricade
She walks very softly,
hoping no one will take notice.
Her hand in his hand, small, protected,
Trapped.
Owned.
Spoken for.
She paints her vessel so pretty, but I wonder
About the majestic that lies within
About the mind behind those dark brown eyes
I wonder who she would be, were she not owned by this man
Not a slave to the world
If she were free, I wonder, would she dance
Naked in the wind?
Singing of the beauty of all that created her and 
All she has created?
Running the sky through her fingers, calling the world her temple
and the stars her lover?
Would she find solace in the river?
Love in the ocean?
Beauty in the rain?
Would she speak?
And, if she spoke, what would she say?