Paint It Golden

For any woman who’s ever been told she’s too much:

You, who broke out of the mold before they even cracked it

off you. You, who came out inventing your own how-to-scale-a-wall

with only vowels. You, who fireflash in the eye of so many

midnights, so many men who want to taste your hem, who dream

of being desired by an Uncommon Woman, if only because

their dressers are empty of anything but brand name cologne

and predictable portrait. Let them call you different. Let them bait

the minnows of you heart. Show them your heart is a school

of fish, a solar system of all moons. When asked, say,

“My heart is always causing the mating season.” When they call you

full of yourself, say, “Yes.” Breathe in their scorn and breathe out

Atlantis. Let them come with their saw blade smiles. Let them come

with their saw blade hands. Let them come to see if you slice

small enough to replace their handkerchiefs, the ones they’ll loan

to who they’ll call easier girls. Let them choose easier girls.

When he tells you he is tossing your broken root out his open window,

and holds up to the glass a more common woman, surrender. Gracefully

surrender the pretend olive branch of his matrimony. The pretend

complete protein he slipped onto your third finger while you stood

in shoes that were always too small for you. When he says she is easier

to handle, live with, attach to, fuck, I want you to remember your neck.

The way it ascends space, and always has, above the rest. You were brought

here for so much more than walking two by two up a ship plank. Anyone

common enough to go coward at the depth of his love for you, wasn’t meant

to walk beside you. So go live in the liquid bowl of gold you were handed

for a skin. Uncommon Woman, let the easier girls pick up the socks. Embrace

your splendid singularity. And look to the rest of us Uncommon Women

standing in the centers, holding up the tents of our skirts, we call them

cities. Love should not have us stoop to fit a portrait. Love should have us

elevate our infinity. So, Uncommon Woman, don’t settle for less.

Instead, stride towards the ever shedding horizon. Take her example

of renewal. Wear your grief like a party dress! Remember, the sun’s

only lover is not the Earth. She’s got moons on every planet.

 -Tara Hardy