Saga's Website
I'm a Woman
It’s hard work and I don’t do it all the time. Sometimes the little kernel at the center is enough.
(Sometimes it has to be enough.)
I’m a woman for me, not for you.
(Well, that depends on who “you” are.)
I’m a woman for me
and for the kind of woman that wants to put her arm around this for whatever reason.
Some men too but I think that’s mostly about
the stubble on the chin
(intriguing texture)
the back muscles
(even more intriguing texture)
the empathy I have for the specific way a man wants a woman
the laughter?
and not so much about the love?
(I say that but everyone whose mouth I’ve put my tongue in was nonbinary. Funny coincidence. I need to study the issue from more angles.)
Oh, there’s one more. I’m a woman for younger women who are just figuring that out about themselves. (I’m duty bound to be.)
Hold their hands and tell them it’s going to be okay. (Make it be okay, if I can.)
Pick them up and make sure someone loves them. It doesn’t have to be me.
(I do, though.
(Even if they’re dumb and silly, because those are things you should be allowed to be.))
It makes me want to cry on their behalf.
Just like I cry when I see an older trans woman happy and secure.
(The circle of life.)
That can, should, must, and will be me one day, I think to myself,
and for a while afterwards I’m invincible.
The hostile world outside can go die. I’m me in here and it’s warm. (That’s the part that matters.)
(I want to share the warmth too, though, dammit.)