“It is that time of the month” they say and shrink back…
Is it the time to smell the iron and the shame between my legs..?
Is this a gift of Innana that courses through me?
I hear them whispering, gossiping.
And those warnings,
they never stop coming;
“Watch out for your daughter, it is that time of the month… ”
The flow might wake up my hoe soul.
And what if I spread my legs?
Sin? Yes… unforgivable, Sin.
I too worry.. But our worries differ.
As I continue to shed my insides, I worry…
“How they never noticed the cry of my body ?
How they never acknowledged
that life comes from between our legs,
that life costs blood…… ”
Such hypocrisy… astounding.
When humane they despise.
When idols they worship.
A pious disgrace, my existence.