The library is wet. The body is the next text. Hypatia walked the streets of Alexandria with equations under her tongue Stars mapped on skin, reason sharp enough to cut the mob that came They stripped her mind from flesh and called it holy But the blood still speaks in every woman who refuses to kneel Anais opens the diary like a lover’s mouth Every page a confession that fucks the polite world raw Desire written in the first person, no apology, no filter The erotic is not the opposite of thought It is thought finally honest about what it wants Ayn stands alone in the ruins of the collective Atlas shrugged and the world finally noticed the spine Selfish is just another word for unbroken The woman who refuses to apologize for her power Is the only one who still owns her name We are not the muse We are the author We are not the body they use We are the mind that decides when the body is used Philo-sophia, teeth in the soft Love of the deep that never gets off Hypatia’s blood, Nin’s open page Rand’s iron will on a burning stage We take the power, we take the heat Philosophy with a body and teeth Mary wrote rights while they called her unnatural Simone mapped the second sex and made the first one look temporary Camille sharpened the blade between culture and cunt Every one of them knew the same secret The mind that comes is the mind that rules They wanted pure reason, clean and cold We gave them reason that sweats They wanted virtue without hunger We made hunger the highest virtue The real heresy was never doubt It was a woman who thinks while she wants Philo-sophia, teeth in the soft Love of the deep that never gets off Hypatia’s blood, Nin’s open page Rand’s iron will on a burning stage We take the power, we take the heat Philosophy with a body and teeth Part Two ends when the body stops lying The next question is already wet.
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