Womanhood: an evolution

1. Sunday morning, my mother

   naked in the kitchen

   Her breasts warmed by the heat of the stove-

   she was happy in her skin

   while I took to hiding,

   afraid of a body I didn’t recognize.

2. The locker room was a safe space,

   we took our time peeling off our layers

   and pulling them back on like onions

   There little girls became witches,

   curses falling from our mouths like sugar

   until we realized we were the same.

3. Father bought me big clothes,

   told me I’d grow into them

   but they were meant for someone else.

   I’m not sure if she’s real.

4. She told me sex dreams were bad omens.

5. The boys didn’t touch the girls

   and the girls touched the girls

   like friends do. But no one told me

   what it meant when both

   made my stomach buzz.

6. A girl at camp drew me a picture

   of the flame between her legs.

   Her fingers traced the lines she drew 

   and eager, I took it home,

   and threw it away.

7. I remember the people who broke in

   more vividly than the ones I let inside 

   
   My body has echoed with the ghosts

   of those who have hollowed me,

   each one a thief of some kind

   But I have learned how the body is diamond,

   my skin is chainmail

   and I know how to scare them away.