Three languages

I hold inside my skull three languages,
The first I grasped when I was six
My father took me aside and taught me 
not to sit in men's laps whose smiles hide
the filthy truth of their sins 
I timorously learned the language of "mistrust"

The second I gained when I was fifteen
I saw my mother pour holy tears out her eyes 
recalling the horrid certainty of my father 
and all the infidelities she endured 
as she wept to me "A woman is nothing without a man"
I achingly learned the language of "helplessness"

The third I mastered
When he kissed my lips at twenty two
and I carelessly threw my worth in his palms 
yet another woman was in his bed 
so I did the opposite of my mother
 I turned my back I walked
away from any man who did not
see the holy blood that filled my veins 
so I turned my back I walked
away from any man who did not
see the God in me.
I vigorously learned the language of  "power".