Amazonian Woman


She lives in a far off land, surrounded by the Scythian hills,
where the sky is always filled with pinks and oranges
from the never-setting sun.
The ground beneath her sturdy feet
is lush with long, green grass
that brushes her able calves.
Large willow trees surround her,
they sway with her movements
and murmur their confidence in her.

Strong thighs, embraced with a leather skirt,
stretch the material as she gallivants through meadows of
dahlias and sky-reaching sunflowers.
High-arched brows
rise with a loud laughter that
gets lost amongst the singing birds.
Her toothy smile etched on her face
glimmers among the large streams of water,
brighter than the sun reflecting off fish scales.

She is unaware of beauty standards and harsh prejudices
that suffocate all women on
planet Earth.
In a place where photo-shop and fake assets
are the new mainstream,
and going under the knife is encouraged to become a Barbie doll.
The only thing she need worry about is
her luscious hair getting into her eyes
while leading her fellow women to equal rights.

Her confidence is applauded by the women from her land;
she is aware of the bare beauty
that she need not cover.
Her booming voice
draws in crowds of hopeful women,
wanting to better their world.
Her intelligence and quick wit
draws smiles on the faces of other
strong women, encouraging her jokes and testimonies.

She is me,
in a golden place in my head.
She is everything I strive to be in order to
love myself the way I love her.

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