I want an underground room
A place that is cool, void of noise
Where I can scream on top of my voice
Stack up my books to the ceiling
A place of growth, like a woman’s womb.
I want an underground groove
A sound recognised by a select few
Appreciated only by the initiated
Foreign to the uncultured.
I want an underground peace
Seated within my belly
In comfort, in roaring silence
But clearly seen on the outside
In my gait, in my composure.