Women's History Month: Sunday, March 7, 2021: Lynne Bronstein's poem "Rough Draft of a Sensual Siren"

Rough Draft For a Sensual Siren

 

“I’m not supposed to do these things.”

Dreamed I had my period again.

Hated them while I had them,

But in the dream, I liked it.

The blood, the mess,

It was all fine.

It was me.

 

Then I dreamed I was pregnant.

Don’t know by whom,

But what did I care?

I lay on a sofa,

Thought of how I would develop

Over the next few months.

I liked becoming bigger

For a good reason.

I found myself making plans

For a future with a child in it.

 

Now what

Was the cause of all this?

A mental reminder that my body

Is not all just

Target practice for doctors.

It used to do other things.

It can still do a hell of a lot of things.

Maybe some of the stuff

I used to do

I still can.

I glide my hands

Down my body,

Remember what this is and what that is,

Those private but exciting places.

My body

Is not all about aches

And atrophied tissues.

My body sings.

It quakes.

It’s got the urge to travel and write home about its trip.

I’m lifting weights every day.

I’m walking a little trek every morning.

Whether there’s anyone to see me or not,

I’m putting on lipstick.

I’m accepting the gently used

Rough draft of myself and my life.

I’m wearing pink.

Get ready out there

I’m on my way.

 

© 2021 Lynne Bronstein

Lynne Bronstein is celebrating numerous decades of being involved in poetry. She has published five books, including the latest, Nasty Girls, from Four Feathers Publishing. Her poetry and short fiction have appeared in everything from Playgirl to Chiron Review, from underground newspapers to National Public Radio. Her poetry videos are on her own YouTube channel. She lives in the San Fernando Valley with three other humans and three cats.