A Poem: I Am Not A Body

 

I am not a body.
I am not two legs, two arms, two breasts.

I am not thunder thighs or thigh gap,

nor bingo wings, nor bikini bridge.
I am not a whistle.
I am not dancing to the pulsing of strings.
I am not for rent, sold on three beers.
I am not the keychain on a luxury car.
I am not a number scaled from one to ten.

I am a body.

I am words fluid in a dry throat,
exasperated by too many “yes but”s and “whatever you say”s.
I am thighs that run for president.

I am hips that bear miracles.

I am arms that fight for enough room to live in.
I am a stomach that rises and falls.
I am the ebb and flow of the galaxy.
I am space.
I am present.

I am female.

 

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