Michaela

It wouldn’t be polite, it would grunt, growl, it would be loud so it’s vibrations would create a big space that reverberated around it, like a force field forbidding entry. It would take space, make space. It would be joyous too but bold and it would have a whole range of tones. It would sing loudly and out of tune. It would make spikey noises, shrill noises, animal noises, elbow and knee noises, even my toenails would squeeze with delight for the hell of it.

This cacophony of flesh, bone, blood and guts is silenced though with just my mouth and hand & pen to vocalise it’s toil but it can dance, make love, consume, expel, reject, cuddle, it birthed a boy, fed a baby, grew a child inside. It was raped, beaten, bruised, cut. It bled silently in pain. It quietly does a multitude of tasks every day without complaint, because who would listen

I’m listening now to this soft flesh that likes sweetness, that likes massage, rest and gentle play.

Nearly 50years of memories unspoken, unvoiced. This body has ancient stories, grievances, joys and woes.

On these few pages I honour you, acknowledge you. I’m quiet, I’ve stopped you being bent to anyone else’s will, even my own. I’m ready to listen.