Should it astound me, inspire me
That every woman has a body
That swells, blooms and smells
Reeks of her own particular scent.
She stands in front of the mirror,
Running her fingers over her belly,
And under all our pulsing veins hide the same story
On the swell of all our breasts
Insecurities, hurt, fear and desire
Primal, forgotten like touches from some God in outerspace.
We have spent an eternity trying to preserve our bodies,
And once every month, my ancestors scrubbed and scrubbed
With scrapped knees and blood trickling down their thighs
The stains of our fertility.
We are bones, muscles and blood
Careening through the world craving human touch
Remembering a time when our bodies
Didnt have to gauge on a meter of decency
When skin ran on skin,
Without eroticism, in companionship with the earth.
Ive begun to feel out of touch with myself
There is no telling where I end and the air begins.
Its unnatural, this vacuum built around me
To preserve my sancitity
Those dangerous unwelcome eyes groping me,
And my friends hidden under thick veils of propriety.
I smelled you in the breeze, that brought with it
The scent of warm seas,
World free from the burden of our ancestors.
I imagine a land far away,
Where we drop our heavy sexes, like clothes before a bath,
And rush out into a horizon unconcerned
Of the inheritance we carry between our thighs.