Where I Come From | A Prose Poem

Where I come from the princess saved herself while the prince was on a gap year. She was slaying dragons as he sat on a rock somewhere, writing poems about the sun and dreaming of a quiet life. For the record, it wasn’t her step-mother that locked her away. They get on rather well, in fact.

Where I come from we dress our boys in yellow and our girls in green, just to keep their options open. We tell our sons who want to be our daughters that they have always been our daughters, really. We have a little cry together and look toward the future. We’ve got a lot to live for after all.

Where I come from we don’t have to teach our women to cover up their skin and stick close to their friends because we’ve already taught our men that no means no. We send them out to make their own clumsy way in the world without chips on their shoulders or glass ceilings above their heads, just thirsty hearts and open minds.

Where I come from, you’re all more than welcome. It really is a beautiful, beautiful place.

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* Inspired by Nin Andrews’ collection, Why God is a Woman.*