Kat Beeton
In a pantomime of performativity / you script what is and is not woman / I can wear my womb like a badge / parade its past inhabitants / to gain entry to this holy space
those who can grow life / what a privilege and a burden / a vaulted sepulchre of expectation / you can revere a sacrament / without burning the chalice
my love is a spectrum / and my body is bursting with colours / my unscripted, multi-coloured temple / with shrines built to all the sides of me
I learn the lines that I have written / and She is what she makes of it / no womb-fashioned key necessary / I have picked this manmade lock
a princess or a mermaid / a queen or ruling the spaces between / She is beautiful
