To My Mother, Who Taught Me What Being A Woman Really Means



You taught me true femininity is not red lipstick
or silence,
or pink baby blankets in hospital rooms.
It doesn’t mean legs tightly pressed together
or happily open.
or legs at all, really.
You showed me what it means
to love through hatred,
to be strong in vulnerability,
to break with ferocity.
That my voice has a place,
That being a woman means people will constantly try
to define my space,
But they can only try.
I get the final call.