Wednesday, 26 September 2018

A Puzzle Woman

by Lucia Daramus

the woman is a puzzle
she is feeling blue ----
or mauve
she is feeling in colours
black, blue, red, mauve,
mauve... like a rainbow
because, because she is so, so complex
her feelings have
thousands of holes
coloured holes in her
maze life.
I am a woman
a writer used to be
feeling blue and red
and green
like other women
like Virginia Woolf
'A woman must have (…) a room
of her own if she is to write(...)'
or like Sylvia Plath
with sadness and happiness.
I feel in images
full of colours, I feel.
and you!
you are a woman too
in pieces
pieces of suffering
pieces of joy
of glamorous life
are you like Sappho
full of life, full of love? of poetry, love of man
love of woman
lovers for lovers.
you are so complex
with thousands of holes
coloured holes in your maze life
you cannot change anything
you love another woman
the mother loves her daughter
the daughter loves her friend
the friend loves another friend
another friend loves the grandmother
the grandmother loves other women
it is like a kingdom of love
because all of us are puzzle women.
our hands caress other women's suffering
our lips kiss our daughters
our thoughts think at joy of others
our tears fall in coffee, black coffee
for all women, girls in the world.
we are full of kindness
and joy, peace, and love
because we are women
puzzle women
with thousands of holes,
coloured holes of our maze life
a maze life of empathy.
nobody changes us
ever nobody changes us
we are women, puzzle women.

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