~a woman’s notebook~


this body mine
permissive
soft you say
fine downy flesh
i invite you
run your fingers over my willow arms
brushing back the silk-thin hair
and watch it fall back into perfection

please excuse this smile amused
as to what makes you think
i actually change my mind

child balanced upon round hips
strong pelvis
this body mine
the builder of men
these hands braced upon my physical fortitude
i invite you in

i paint my lips in shades of mona lisa mystery
and rest patience in my lap
until you see my cast iron bone
and ready bayonet
do not turn your back on me
to find i am the enemy of indifference
and that i strike with the intent of drawing blood

come
come surrender in my arms
drink my milk from swollen ready breast
wipe my tears
and bury yours in my hair cast across a scented pillow
let my body be a warmed coverlet
yours to rest beneath
but remember
i live the night with opened eyes

look upon my profile
follow the roman line of my nose
to once again the fine hair over my lip
and if you give touch to my quiet kiss
you will find the quake that lies deep within the earth

please excuse i stare at your look bewildered
to say only this in passing
~ absent the prerogative
i have had many a foot
placed grossly on my stomach
to hold me to a burial
but i am the loam
i am the rock
i am the fallen leaf
the worm
the brush
and the pregnant seed

to answer your question
the difference is
you do not see how much of a man
i am

~to these fathers, sons and husbands
i see all of me
that you hold inside

~and so it goes
with thoughts from a woman’s notebook~


jeanne rene 9/04