i'm too much with myself, i wanna be someone else.

"What does it matter
if I wore my skirt short,
my hair stacked high,
my eyeliner black and thick,

if my long earrings jangled
when I ran
and I wore a padded bra
under my gold lamée blouse
or no bra at all
under a sheer one?

When I danced naked in my apartment
or stripped on a mountain
and made love amid ferns and conifers,
I was like all
the other animals.

And I say
the body is a golden chalice
filled with guts
and menstrual blood.
Every living cell is holy,
radiant as a stained-glass window
with sunlight streaming through.

So what does it matter
how many men wanted me?
What does it matter
if I had my way?"