I am the bitch
not because I cash in but because I dare enjoying my body
my shameless sexuality is a scandal for both men and women in that lineage.
I would say that with the acceptance of my pleasure I am more scandalous
for the latter than for the former.
therefore I am the feminist bitch
she who shouts back when commanded to shut up, she who says what she thinks
unstoppable, incorrect, disoriented, spoiled
the criminal one who violates the established rules.
I am the heretic: the only one who dared converting herself to the fervor of
the Holy Spirit
she who confesses that one day, she started believing in Christ
I am the shame, the dishonor of this family
in reunion they avoid introducing me, and if I appear–a rare occurrence
they never invite me–they will hide our kinship… I am a genetical accident
“the lunatic daughter”
I came out deviant
I took the effort to take the wrong path, and persevered on it until today
they can’t tell I got over the folly of youth… 20 years later
I keep “being stuck” in that state of rebellion and contempt
and it’s not only a family affair: my insolence extends beyond
the intimate infrastructure, expanding across media, bouncing
in the streets, in publications, in dialogs
who cares if they’re visitors, nice people, good people, people who
live a straight life, if we have family ties or they’re just neighbors.
it doesn’t matter:
my obscenity can’t be held, and I’m capable of telling them hypocrites
I can bring shame on those names I inherited to much of their sorrow.
“you are the black sheep”
“I won’t be able to pass the door without all staring at me because of you”
I have the unforgivable obstinance to keep my integrity, especially
with regard to my own principles
and to enjoy being a woman, discarding–not giving a fuck of–their
I have no mercy
I am incorrigible
I pay with the–to them: just–marginality of having a heart, the permanent
challenge to my intelligence,
the transgression of the creepling limits of this society’s prejudices.
I pay with my body
I am the orgasm-giving whore
here I am to the mother who gave me birth,
here I am to the father who taught me how to walk
her, to the little brother to whom I was giving my toys and whom I protected
with my own life.