​for the love of god
dig your feet into the earth and sing of cellulite 
of the thicket of gnarled shadow at the apex of thigh
of the sweet tart smell of you pooling under your arms on a summer day 
of muffin top and peach fuzz and caesarian scar
because in all this is woman 

for the love of god
grind your toes into the grass
and sing in her name 
of the painful jut of hipbone and shoulder blade
of the line of the spine and the bend of a hip 
of crows feet and laugh lines and all the creases 
because in all of them is woman 

for the love of god
wade into the surf
and sing of stretch marks 
blooming wine purple 
of chipped nails and chipped teeth 
and knobbly knuckles and bony knees
and yes, of Adam’s apple bobbing in the throat of Eve 
in that too is woman 

for the love of god
let the sun deep into your flesh 

turn blood into golden ichor 
and sing of rose bleeding past binary 
of throats raw and voices hoarse 
with the work of declaring our presence 
sing of belly laugh and groan and sob and scream 
sing of hurricane and wildfire
orchid bloom and bee sting 
of mama bear and mother hen 
of being and breathing and seeing and living 
because in all this is woman 
all of it is woman

---

Dia Bhojwani