Things that are Important to Me

i want to be upfront, so
you'll have to turn aside
your eyes at the sharp bits,
those phrases or words that bite
into your soul, heat your blood and remind you
just how alive you really are.
turn away until i have moved on,
turn back when you are ready
to join me again.

~

i like my breasts, they
remind me i am woman, not
that i need the reminder, i know,
but there are times others forget

the centuries of nurturing, the tender years
of love-soothes and nocturnal pacing
that has gone into the making of me.

my mothers worked fingers until their bones
were covered in wrinkled, freckled, hard skin.
they cooked and cleaned until even that skin
that held them together, began to burn away
the history their callouses carelessly covered.

they sold their wares to any bidders,
not just the highest, sold their souls
to the devil to save their favoured ones
the ones who stepped in their prints,
the girls who poked and prodded
sheets in boiling coppers, girls who slaved
over irons and ovens, who picked up the slack
and ran with it, barefoot, into their own homes.

sometimes nothing more than bones and broth
lay on their tables, nothing more than old papers
lay on their beds. sometimes
i wish i lived in less complex days, but really
i have no idea.

i won't wear a trouser suit, walk
with chin high, and briefcase swinging. i
wear a smile, skirts, and tops low enough to reveal
a slight shadow to leave no doubt in your mind that i
am woman.