Thread by @RCdeWinter

XX

I am Everywoman,
born naked, squalling, waxed with vernix,
the blood and salt of the womb.

There are obligations, expectations
attached to my being from my first breath.
I will be indoctrinated into the mysteries
of my tribe, whatever they may be.

My oxygenated skin has paled to whiteness,
yellowed to gold, reddened to rust,
burnt black in the sun.

My hair has been straight and wavy,
curled and frizzed, long, short,
shaved to my skull, completely absent.

I’ve been cherished for myself,
for my worth in the marketplace,
owned:
bartered for cattle, for grain, for preferment, for a crown.

I've gathered that grain in the field, and fruit from the bush,
bought food off the shelf, cooked endless meals,
swept away the remains, if any, from feasts.

Forced to my knees, I've scrubbed floors,
prayed to gods, pleasured men,
confessed to sins never committed to keep the peace.

I've traded youth for money,
beauty for power,
and in my ugliness silence
for the freedom of being ignored.

I’ve known the love of men and women,
carnal and pure, brutal and adoring.

I've been worshiped and wooed,
beaten and raped,
sacrificed to gods
and the violence of husbands.

I’ve been exalted, wreathed in silk and flowers,
beheaded, burnt at the stake for witchcraft,
for retribution, for entertainment.

I've borne children naked and squalling,
dead in the womb, living to thrive,
sometimes dying after some measure of life
cut short by illness, starvation, war
and the pitiless shears of inexplicable fate

I've screamed my pain in arenas,
smothered my tears in pillows,
buried my sorrow in silent graves.

I've starved myself feeding my children,
starved my children feeding myself,
sung them lullabies, beaten them
for no other reason than my own frustration.

Women!

We’ve sung and danced, written and painted,
sown and reaped, hunted and gathered,
founded dynasties, poisoned enemies,
plumbed the universe within and without,
made millions and lost them.

We’ve been mothers and daughters,
sisters and aunts
grandmothers, cousins,
wives and concubines,
lifegivers, killers,
warriors, peacemakers,
queens and slaves,
strangers passing in the street,

our lives always defined
by the biological and cultural
interpretations of the XXs that made us.

We've screamed our pain in arenas,
smothered our tears in pillows,
buried our sorrows in silent graves.

I am you, you are me,
all of us women
Everywoman.

© 2018 RC deWinter
Published in Moon Sanctuary Press
formidable women sanctuary – skin issue
October 2019

for my sisters everywhere...