the last muse

You think love ends when you do not see me?

You think wanting you stops just because you’re out of sight?

 

Every breath of mine beckons yours to meet it.

Each drop of sweat on my skin longs for your tongue.

 

 

You think I don’t wonder what you taste like in the morning?

My body pulses with the sound of your voice.

 

 

I swear I can still smell your skin.

And I stole one of your shirts.

 

 

The inconvenience of it all is little to endure,

compared to the ache in my core and the void in my heart.

 

 

The gentle union of our hands.

A head resting in a lap.

 

 

Our bodies sinking into each other.

A tangle of limbs wound together.

 

What we promised.

The things said in the dark.

 

Am I not always with you?

If not, I am certainly lost.

mbz/2009

thinking of my muse

Girl Interrupted

I think I will just write on behalf of me.

If this serves as an explanation or understanding for you regarding another woman, then so be it.

 

I am a feminist.

I bought into the notion that a woman could have it all.

I am grateful to the women that fought for my right to vote and for equality.

I admire the women that caused the women’s movement

in the 60s and 70s.

Being in a world that has begun to regard women as leaders- business, political and otherwise has paved the way for me.

 

The blessing and the burden. 

I love being a woman

I have been so busy trying to live up to those who went before.

Wanting to have it all.

Feeling like if I didn’t want it all, I would somehow forsake all my sisters.

That I would be less than.

That I would betray them

 

And on the 6th day God made Man.

What a mixed message the last 20 years must have been for you.

I don’t imagine knowing what it has been like.

Was it confusing or am I assuming?

Was it lonely?

Do you resent me?

Did you settle?

Did you go away?

Perhaps it didn’t matter.

 

I forgot

I forgot the other part of being a woman.

I forgot that we were meant to be partners.

I forgot how important that is to the world.

That our union creates a chemistry that heals.

That the love between us provides us each the elixir to fuel our unique passions and dreams.

I forgot I could be strong for you, tender for you, that I could adore you and love you.

I forgot that all you wanted was to be my hero and have me feel safe and adored and loved.

I forgot I forgot I forgot.

I forgot how I would melt from your touch. 

I forgot to tell you how amazing you are.

I forgot what it felt like to miss you, to long for you.

I forgot how sweet the moment was when the longing ceased.

 

I have been so busy.

I have a rich, juicy life full of a sense of accomplishment, great friends, and a lot of work (real and made-up). The made-up work is a convenient way to occupy my mind and numb my heart so I don’t have to remember all I have forgotten.

I wake up and realize that I am alone.

I hear how there are others just like me.

They bought into it too. We’re not victims.

We were just perpetuating the movement, the reaction.

None of us want to go back nor do we wish to continue fighting a fight that’s not really our fight.

 

There are some things I will continue to fight for on behalf of my gender. But these are things that I shouldn’t have to fight for in the first place- choices, education, children, human rights. But I will fight for these until they are resolved.

 

Then I woke up.

I was just doing what I thought was best for me.

It felt like it was an ‘either/or’ life and I was okay with my choice.

I woke up.

I saw that living out of a reaction was a different type of bondage.

I woke up a realized that I had made life a substitute for love.

I woke up and realized if I didn’t turn back and find the part of me that forgot all of those things none of this would have been worth it.

I woke up and remembered what mattered.

 

[I came across this piece I wrote a couple years ago. Two poems came out of it. It still serves as a nice reminder to me about my journey as a woman in this life.]