¨Women with tattooes are vain…
loose and easy.¨
Strange! Given that my grandmothers
and all their ilk
were inked.
There was nothing loose about them –
in their character or words.
But they were easy
with their love and ambition;
marking us
as doctors and collectors at will.
An array on their wrinkled bodies –
queen size necklaces, bracelets,
names of Gods and husbands…
¨A tattoo is acceptable
if it´s your husband´s name.¨
Branded on your skin as a stamp of ownership?
¨Or your children.¨
Because women are only
a reference to their relations?

But I fell and have risen
of my own accord.
Shackled in a thought;
liberated by another.
Rebuilt myself
with the pieces of judgment
thrown my way.
I have branded myself with fire;
sprouted anew from the ashes.
The ink on my body
speaks of my story.
It´s a language
you may not understand.