I am the written woman

matron and maiden

breathing through epistolary pages  

declared, written, whispered in your insanity and passion   

I am the feminine ideal

a catchall dish for your projections  

I am a concept, a cure

I am the subconscious slip of a social standard   

a double standard written by a man and written by a man

a surface level plotline  

I am a main character silenced

my tongue in your pen

 

 

I am the written woman

an archetype

a comparison to a heavenly being   

your dirty dream

the angel that stirs your inner demons   

I am a curiosity

a novelty, a desire, an embrace that comforts and tempts   

a lingering gaze filled with grace and seduction

a kiss you should never have stolen   

I am a glass reputation

I am a threat to your virility

I am a blow to your ego

I am a reflection of our society  

I am a pussy to be grabbed

I am to blame

 

But I am more than what you want to see      

My truth

is not your truth

I am a quiet conversation in the early morning

I am marbled eyes

I am warm bread and honey

I am the ribbon in my sister’s hair

I am lace and fringe and pearls   

I am the steadiness in my child’s writing

I am dew and lemongrass

I am roaring laughter and thunder

I am summer sun stealing drops of water from warm skin 

I am dog eared pages and the smell of old books

I am salty tears and running charcoal

I am the bite and pucker of red wine

I am lived-in satin sheets and fingertips

I am the hum of cicadas and an open window    

I am a lover  

I am a wife

I am a mother  

I am a woman

 

   And I am not written for you.