FacesA Poem by Marie Anzalonefor our sistersFaces This week: I wore black, because I care. And colors, because I can. I said I love you to someone and it is not against any law for me to say those words. I wore pants and a blouse that showed my body and was not whipped. I was not blamed for a plague. I took a bus by myself, no man by my side except other passengers. I turned my face to the sun and ate an ice cream. In public. I wrote a controversial political opinion and did not have to hide myself in the trunk of a car and flee across a border. I defended myself to the landlord and was not beheaded. I had coffee with a married man and my family was not kidnapped. I am over 40 and am not married. This is not a crime. Yet. On one side, they ask me, why do you call yourself a feminist? You do not seem to hate men. You should stay in your lane. On the other side, they ask, why write about love when there is so much more important to focus on? You should branch out. I am lost, the words come hard today. Hailstones freezing in my heart, piercing sinew and muscle. I will not look away- if only because I know so many others, will. I am still
free, I say- even if only in my own mind. Their god demands a
sacrifice asks them to die. I write about love,
because in times of war, loving openly, freely- are acts of faith.
Having passion in a world that kills joy is the supreme act of courage. I am feminist, I say, and will remain feminist until all of my sisters, everywhere one week: can wear colors. show faces. love. exist. choose not to pray. not marry. ride a bus. drive a
car. tell men to listen. tell men to leave them alone. tell men anything, they do not want to hear. Nobody is free until we all have a face and can wear it how we want. © 2021 Marie AnzaloneFeatured Review
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5 Reviews Added on August 19, 2021 Last Updated on August 19, 2021 AuthorMarie AnzaloneXecaracoj, Quetzaltenango, GuatemalaAboutBilingual (English and Spanish) poet, essayist, novelist, grant writer, editor, and technical writer working in Central America. "A poet's work is to name the unnameable, to point at frauds, to ta.. more..Writing
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