terça-feira, 28 de julho de 2020

there is still some pink out there

by Carol Stampone

there is still some pink out there
my feet want to dive into the hopeful pink
able to fascinate kids of all genders
and capable to bring us to the present
for a moment
my belly is hungry for it
my uterus cries 
every morning
empty
it begs for some pink that can grow inside its walls
my body dreams of days 
where pink will not be hidden
in the corners of all that did not happen 
 
my mom repeats that I am too old for pink
she had different plans for me
i’m not supposed to be another good girl caged in a shiny house
she sacrificed so much for my independence
 
i try to tell her
mom, the pink that I’m pursuing is not the same pink that you fear
the pink that I am constantly looking for
is not the color of capitalistic modern women
with their housewife dresses, 
their doll houses and their obligation to reproduce
the pink that is out there and speaks with my dreams is 
wild 
whole
primary
it smells like rain
it speaks the language of resistance
yes, mom, the pink that I am searching is aggressive
it has to be 
because it questions the norms
but it also hugs me
the pink out there knows how to embrace all my pieces

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