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Culture & Society

A? Woman's Body Writing Itself

I am a pitch-dark womb. I shelter God's fetus...standing on my toes. I am a whore: a flung open door through which men come and go pretending innocence.

I was not created for pleasure...
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1.?? ?I am a whole poem
?????? hidden squeezed
?????? in between my thighs.
?
?????? written in the language
?????? of Braille.
?????? At night??you come
?
? ? ? ?tiptoeing to read me
???????with the sharp gaze
???????of your hands.

????????Fingers, too, have eyes
????????that blaze in the dark.
????????I am not a moon

????????but have scars.

2.???? Do I look
????????like a luscious pair of fruits
????????dangling awkwardly

????????in the green garden
????????of my flesh men love
????????to eat with their eyes ?

3.?????I have been declared
? ? ??? 'a disturbed area',
? ?? ? ?a territory under 'seize'.

? ? ? ? ?But my borders are
? ? ? ? ?porous, and
? ? ? ? ?I am penetrable.

? ? ? ? ?I, often, get lost
? ? ? ? ?in the wilderness
? ? ? ? ?of my own body.

4.??????I am a pitch dark womb.
?????????I shelter God's fetus
?????????standing on my toes.

?????????On the sharp edge
?????????of??love I throb
?????????like a parrot's tongue.

?????????I am a whore:
?????????a flung open door
?????????through which men come and go

?????????pretending innocence.

5.??????Actually, I am just
?????????a swampy little hole -

?????????all the metaphors
?????????are merely
?????????'a damage control'.
???????
?