A response to Pocket-Sized Feminism by Blythe Baird
I learn and I leak.
There are holes in my feminism
and my palms are overflowing
with missed chances and silence.
I learn and I leak.
Damp settling into my bones
and my third eyelid crease
but I refuse to be wallpaper –
(watch me spot and grow with mould)
I will stand up and leave my seat,
even while I leak and re-learn
every word I must speak.
Forget the coffee tables
and their heavy feet.
Watch us kick them over
and dismantle the wood
rotting beneath.
Poem: © Kristiana Reed 2020
Feminism is a very strong term. Its creation, its love and care. Its destruction at times even when the strongest of Gods thunders couldn’t demolish the devilish deeds.
Feminism is a veil that protected the mighty Arjuna during the year of hiding identity.
Feminism is in itself a boon which this world has yet not understood fully.
Feminism is my daughter who is my most pious and precious possession.
Femininity……Goddess……tranquility.
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