My short skirt

It is not an invitation
a provocation
an indication
that I want it
or give it
or that I hook.

My short skirt
is not begging for it
it does not want you
to rip it off me
or pull it down.

My short skirt
is not a legal reason
for raping me
although it has been before
it will not hold up
in the new court.

My short skirt, believe it or not
has nothing to do with you.

My short skirt
is about discovering
the power of my lower calves
about cool autumn air traveling
up my inner thighs
about allowing everything I see
or pass or feel to live inside.

My short skirt is not proof
that I am stupid
or undecided
or a malleable little girl.

My short skirt is my defiance
I will not let you make me afraid
My short skirt is not showing off
this is who I am
before you made me cover it
or tone it down.
Get used to it.

My short skirt is happiness
I can feel myself on the ground.
I am here. I am hot.

My short skirt is a liberation
flag in the women’s army
I declare these streets, any streets
my vagina’s country.

My short skirt
is turquoise water
with swimming colored fish
a summer festival
in the starry dark
a bird calling
a train arriving in a foreign town
my short skirt is a wild spin
a full breath
a tango dip
my short skirt is
initiation
appreciation
excitation.

But mainly my short skirt
and everything under it
is Mine.
Mine.
Mine.

On femininity and pain

You don’t know pain unless you’ve been born a girl/woman. I’ve always felt that women are the most empathic creations ever. No one can top a woman’s sensitivity when it comes to emotions (and you guys are in no position to argue). I’m not trying to sound like a feminist slash man-hater here. I’m not trying to pull a “Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus” antic either. Men are…ooops…i mean BOYS… Boys are just too immature to handle pain. No one can handle the hurt the way a woman does. And we live through that (generally/ideally speaking..*wink*).

Okay, where was I? Oh yes. Pain. Like I said, a woman’s life is powered by emotions – one of them being pain. I mean, try wearing heels for crying out loud. Try having a tough abdominal cramps during menstruation (dysmenorrhea) – add to that the irksome thought of having to wear napkins in between your legs for the most of your life (really, when napkin brands say in commercials that their product makes girls feel as if they don’t have it – the period, that is – their LYING! I always feel something being stuck in between my legs no matter what pad I use! See? This is what I mean by women being sensitive.. lol). Also, try being pregnant and suffer from morning sickness. And then after 9 heavy months, try coming into labor (well I’ve never really actually done that but just by looking at it, and just by hearing it being said, “LABOR”…that sounds like hard work!).

You see? A woman has to go through all that if she wants to experience her full potential (well, the part about pregnancy and labor may be optional, though). And all of these have the inevitability of experiencing pain. And yet we are not afraid (*gulp*…well, I sorta am for the labor and pregnancy part). We perpetually have to live with the pain. And you may say that for all these years, we must have gotten used to that. but no we haven’t. It still hurts and it keeps on hurting. Yet we deal with that.

So the next time you complain about getting hurt. I’m gonna have to say this: “Are you a woman? Well, if you’re not, you’re lucky. Look at what’s in store for me? Cheer up already!”