Singing Her Body Electric
You sing of the body, the body, the body,
the vigor of the man
And yet women are relegated to the role of child-bearer,
Mother of man, lover of man, but not equal of man.
I am young.
I am much younger than you,
and know little of the bodies, the bodies, the bodies,
and the love that comes from the space (lack of space)
but I can tell you about a woman:
She is not soft where man is hard
she is soft where she is soft
sloping belly, rounded more on one side
perfect asymmetry distended
breasts swinging, strange and wonderful
in their simple complexity yielding, firm
not only milk of man;
you/I/we/she/they take and give more pleasure than that.
Swell of hips and thigh that feel heavy poised over supple foot.
Dip of manubrium rest your fingers there
or no dip and smooth flesh only,
softer, heavier woman
equal is the delight
smooth planes to trace with loving hands, with awed hands
awed and shocked, frozen in wonder.
I love arms the mos