But You Forget, That The Ownership Of My Body Is Mine!

You decide what can be done with my body, says the poet, but you forget that despite all of that, the ownership of this body is mine, not yours.

You decide what can be done with my body, says the poet, but you forget that despite all of that, the ownership of this body is mine, not yours.

You take my body

and write on it.

your laws,

your commandments,

your to-do lists.

On my body you inscribe

what I must wear,

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what I must not do,

what I must say.

You take my body

in so many ways

and in so many places

–in the temples and the churches,

in the hospitals, and schools and battlefields,

in homes and in the courts of law.

Your world is my doll house

where you strip me naked

and dress me up.

And yet my body

never pleases you,

so you take a scalpel to it,

or a pen

and you rip it apart

in your newspapers and television,

in your facebook and instagram feeds;

round and round

like Chinese whispers

but you forget this simple thing

–it is my body.

Mine.

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