"We do not grow absolutely, chronologically. We grow sometimes in one dimension, and not in another; unevenly. We grow partially. We are relative. We are mature in one realm, childish in another. The past, present, and future mingle and pull us backward, forward, or fix us in the present. We are made up of layers, cells, constellations."

Anaïs Nin





Tuesday, September 16, 2008

We are women

dedicated to the women I love, all around the world...














for
the children we may bear in our wombs...
the sisters who can't give birth but never stop giving love ...
the blood of life flowing between our tights...
the wrinkles coming, the laugh bursting, the tears...
the sisters who stood before us, stand besides, will stand ...
the words we may put on beings, things...
the madness, mildness, doubt, wisdom...
the joy of creating, sharing, loving...
the memories to keep and teach...
the wild women deep inside...
for all these reasons and million others...
we are lovers, mothers, grand-mothers, friends, sisters
we are women...

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