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Board Administrator Username: mjm Post Number: 4154 Registered: 11-1998 |
Honorable Mention Feminine Graces Laura Batchelor They tell me I’m a woman now, To speak softly and comb my hair. But the age of debutantes has died; I had no parties and taffeta gowns. Welcoming me to womanhood Was a box of tampons (But we shouldn’t speak of that!) And a strip of rainbow-colored condoms. They wanted me to loathe my body, To restrain and hide my generous breasts, To conceal my curves under loose polyester. They taught me the feminine graces - Lie on my back, carry his children, Laugh at his jokes, make his sandwiches. Is that all I’m meant to be? A paper doll, Ornamental toy, Forever smiling through my silent servitude? They tell me I’m a woman now, But my hair’s unruly waves inspire unruly ways, Forever flying where they please, Dancing lightly in the summer breeze. I refuse to comb and bind my hair Or hide my body under layers of shame. I am female, proud child of the changing moon, Everlasting image of Athena and Artemis. I am not afraid of my breasts And I will speak of tampons whenever I please. |
