wild flowers and the six first lines of this poem written on a spiral notebook, surrounded by the figurine of a geisha, and a glass of juice.

Women I Compare Thee

Happy International Women’s Day in advance.”

Women I Compare Thee

Women and their strength
And all the weeds flowers and grasses
That grow upon our skin, uninvited

We women are storm-like creatures
Winged and crowned, but still so humble,
Perhaps the metaphor for a flower trampled on 
— Beautiful petals snatched away

Women and their endurance
And all these gigantic trees
That crawl and root inside of us, forcibly

The tears we cry turn into lakes and rivers 
Lakes and rivers hosting thy worlds,
That body of us, a blossoming vessel 
Within which thy dreams come true,

Women and their intuition
And all of the dreams that haunt us —
Wonderful Sibyls that take in,

We hold the mountains in our breasts 
And cradle the sky as birds fly by
Stopping the magma with the gentleness of a kiss

Women and their feminine energy,
How brave we are, a unique race filled with light —
Soul wanderers dancing in your blue sky,

Our belly walls crack, and iron rains everywhere
Such odd and fascinating us, women 
Longing for wilderness and freedom to be,

Women and their tender caring clasp
And our damp basin filled with thy seeds
Which we keep safe, till they germinate

And as thy roots tear us open crude 
We hold on to this love with pain 
Hoping that the she race we are, remain.

-Eiravel-

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