some Thoughts on Becoming a woman

I will never get used to my new body, Its savage softness, the way it Spills sweetly Here and there, the way my shoulders are enough To break my heart. The long low alto of my thighs and the soprano of my neck Do not belong to me. My noise is gone and now there is melody, But I do not want it. God led me out Of the desert and into a land Overflowing with milk and honey. I brim, and I spill sweetly And I want the desert. Do you remember? It is lean and golden and severe, And the heat trembles Around your edges Like wild lace. Do you remember? You were lean and golden and Severe And you weren't a woman yet And that meant That your muscles crouched like panthers Under skin that didn't beg To be bitten, To be paved with hands. You were clear and bright And beautiful as a bone-snap. Remember When you were inside your own garden, Before you were the gatekeeper, Saying, Yes, you may enter, Please come in.