On Being a Woman
silence demanded itself justly,
and the ringed vowels of a past confession
escaped — fled from the present, no
longer haunted by the ache of which
was pushed — the words of detriment:
rough bark against the silk of minutes,
the potential of what time could not spool;
but this garment bears itself on naked grounds.
spurting as a flood should,
watch the dance of my guilt waltz in reverse.
for in these ovaries lies no such fountain,
or jiving steps for that matter — sprung
silence in the chamber of my womanhood!
— and still, i am but a child, allegedly in need of
warmth and fabrics: a girl needs to needs,
and yet, she strives for anything but.
hushed, those hidden memories murmur,
cooking themselves to vapor: watch my
metallic lid enclose: every veiled lady
should know how to cook, right? a scoff
skirts across that question — let the
silence ruin the boiling of water, let the
stovetops simmer in the lack of simmering.
potentialities uncovered through coverage:
peek-a-boo: there, then not: the patterns of
personality hang drab-like; the havoc of cloths
protecting and exposing chilled skins — spy
the hairs of each — watch ’em stand whip-like,
as the woman whirls from a pleaded past, to
the threshold of a cladded future and an unfurled now.
Brittany Swenson has had her poetry published in Alien Mouth Magazine, TWJ Magazine, Abyss & Apex and has written for Thought Catalog. She currently resides in New York City and is working on a chapbook.
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Cover Photo: Codice Tuna (https://www.flickr.com/photos/codicetuna/)