This, Woman

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She has lines around her eyes.

This, woman.

Roadmaps whispering, speaking grief and joy,

clinging to, and releasing

This, woman

She who hopes, regrets.

She who fights, stands up, protects.

She who births,

sustains stretching, tearing of flesh for gift of sleepless nights

For milky, dripping grins – toothless perfection

She who has lost,

Holding emptiness in belly, where promise once slept

This, woman

She who loves unending love until day’s end

Linking to what was, what is, and what is to come

I watch her laugh.

She has lines around her eyes.

Beautiful lines.

(for all of my sister women, who in their bleeding and loving become one, in hopes that my daughters will become these, women.)

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