Itching fingers make for poignant laughter
feet dangling miles above
where we began
years ago I told her
that this too
shall pass and she remembers
even now
she kicks intermittent
heels swinging rhythmic
as if feet were made for hanging off
of high places
women have always been
the center of things beautiful for me
becoming woman
has always been the center of my girlhood
the sum of my thighs
ankles
even my shoulders were always girl
when I bled for the first time
I told only my best friend
wrapped my secret in her ear
and assured her
that this blood meant we could make babies
being girl
and vulnerable
meant I had to
run faster than itchy fingers
farther
than sweaty palms reaching for my hands
my tiny breasts
had to be brave
against the full fling of his fury when I refused
when I stabbed him
pencil point sliding swift into his flesh
the whole house stirred
and slipped silly into a frenzy
and I was proud of my pencil
point
sharp and without fear
my aunt beat me anyway
and I cried more out of loneliness
than anything
one cousin’s name
still remains quiet upon my tongue
I think of him
when I am sad or angry
or afraid of things that do not make noises in the dark
the other one
stark raving mad
showed me his dick
told me I smelled like a woman
in my little girl’s body
hips barely budding he cornered me
in the hallway
the bathroom
when I bled
I washed quick and quiet
in secret
I became a cradle for civilization
no body not woman
can claim that privilege
magic
Rachel says
magic
we can stir our hips and dip
them in footprints of blood
mark the path of a nation
a world
a universe of possible peoples
charting a familiar course
I am a girl
become woman now
no queries necessary
under my skirt
my jeans
cargo pants
panties
boxers
under my briefs
rests my pussy
my twat
my cunt bleeds
once a month
I am reminded
that though the traffic from my womb
has been slow
though I have not yet given birth
I can
my body can do something
no boy
or man
or not-woman can
do it!
I dare you to make people
without a vagina
Buddha
or Man
or Beast
Even Jesus had to pass through a punani
angels and messengers aside
Mary had to lend passage to God
or them Christians might still be Jews
waiting for a Christ
that was stuck up the ass of some man
who though he could
do what little girls do
everywhere
against their wishes
they carry
sons
and fathers
and cousins who envy their vagina
their breasts
their ability to make breath
from passion
or the neat decision of an intent
one day
my own body will
semaphore
petals will bloom
little girls called Olivia
and Andrea
and Elisha
and Racquel
mouths will open wide
in wonder
and terror
at the beauty
the magic of what girls do
everyday
women carry people into places
of being
everyday
I am grateful I was born
bloody snatch in just the right place
yesterday my mother told me
to write my story
no matter that I write her
in unflattering truths
write
she told me
I hope it sells
so you can have a child with a heart like yours
beating fair
and kind
and everything
was better
it did not matter that she left me
twice
no matter that me being girl
meant that she
could not be safe as woman
in Jamaica 1972
yesterday
she said
write
and the world righted itself
and I wished
that every girl whose mother left
would give her permission
unnecessary
but grand
to say
what happened
to her
flesh and fury
to write how she survived
the splendor of being a small girl
in a big world that so deeply favors men
I wish every girl
had a room of her own
a room with a splendid view
a room from which she could be
safe from the terror of these brutal
but common truths
Click here to post your own truths