Woman

Woman

It’s what I am, for it’s what I’ve proven myself…to be

Groomed myself…to ‘she’

Longing for that proclamation of justification

The feather kisses of a man who’ll never stray too far away

So I prune my legs like twin bonsais

Color and contour, pad and tuck, pull and strut

Swallow down these tiny purple pills

That grant new life, even as…they threaten death.

Women

It is what we are

Neither hunters nor gatherers…but carriers

Of life, of secrets, of tiny miseries and shallow disasters

Of benedictions and curses, of light and of shadow

Of your story and mine

Woman, twice born

Once divine.