5 Senses of a Woman's Revolution

Art by Amelia J. Foy
Poetry by Jazmine Alcon
I. Sight

Dear Girl,
I have seen the fire within your eyes.
Matches scraping loudly against the box,
placed carefully beneath the cage around you.  
Watch the smoke rise, just like you will.
Watch the world become bigger just for you.
Watch how you become Mother Earth herself, geography so intricate and complex, not everyone can understand it.
Not everyone has to.

II. Sound

Dear Girl,
I have heard your voice even with your lips shut.
Melody strung together by the emotions you are told not to feel.
Filled with confidence, pride, and power.
Sing your song, hummingbird.
You are not just here to listen.
Contribute the magic within the curves of your tongue.
Make them listen even if your voice begins to shake.
This song isn't for anybody but you.

III. Smell

Dear Girl,
Is that the new perfume you bought?
The reek of it lingers even when you are no longer around.
It has become the only aroma my nose will ever be familiar with, so powerful it marks the universe as its territory and doesn't settle for anything less.

IV. Taste

Dear Girl,
You have tasted the salty tears drop onto your lips as you have learned that this world is a battlefield more than it is a playground.
You have tasted the bitterness of the word no because you dared step outside the box of femininity or stayed within it.
You have tasted the flaming victory that laid within the word yes.
Yes to the crown on your head.
Yes to you being able to do what it is that makes you happy.
Yes to the days where the work of women before you finally paid off.
Yes to the Corazon Aquinos.
Yes to the Marie Curies.
Yes to the Harriet Tubmans.
Yes to the Virginia Woolfs.
Yes to the Viola Davises.
Yes to those who have changed the face of history behind the scenes.
Yes to you.

V. Touch

Dear Girl,
The glass ceiling confining us has to break.
The sky is no use if it is untouchable.
Man can walk on the moon, but what about you?
Do not be afraid to bang on the ceiling,
stomp on it,
and scream so loud the glass shatters.
This cage is not your home, burn it down and rise from the ashes.  
We built this world with our backs, our wombs, our hands.
Taking up space is our birthright.


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