feminism women body beauty natural
Learn more about other poetry terms
This Body
is me
it is us
it is we
This body is mother
it is sister
it is lover
These arms have rocked children
These hips have rocked men
March seventeenth
ten years old
My mother always told me to go outside and play with the little boy who picked the apples off the tree
You want things I'm not willing to give you
Why? I couldn't tell you.
It seems my body prevents those around me
From seeing who I really am.