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La Virgen

y La Zorra.

The obedient wife

and the lustful mistress.

The pious mother

and the sex object.

Día

y Noche,

Light

and Dark.

“But how?”

I ask,

“How can I be a mother

and keep my virginity

at the same time?”

And they say,

“Bueno, gracias a Dios,

Mother Mary managed to do it.”

I do not understand.

A baby cannot exist without sex,

And birth can be orgasmic.

Conception and birth,

A circle, a cycle,

Linked together,

Con placer,

Con amor.

Not two unrelated events.

These are facts.

Give me some evidence of your immaculate conception.

Explain to me why feminine pleasure makes you so uncomfortable.

I refuse to limit myself

to one side of your idiotic dichotomy.

Not when I have seen

with my very own eyes,

The tranquil beauty of dawn and dusk.

Dark and Light,

Light and Dark.

Sex and Motherhood.

One cannot exist without the other.

And that is why, my dear conservative, privileged men,

I am immune to your machismo,

Which is synonymous with a particular word,

A useful word.

Bullshit.

 

Atlas,

The Titan who betrayed the Olympians,

Forced to carry the skies on his back.

Resentful and unwilling,

He attempts to pass his burden to the demigod Hercules.

That is how the myth goes.

But I have met Atlas.

Neither Titan, nor man—

A woman.

She carries the weight

Of trauma,

Of pain,

Of sadness.

Not because she has been condemned to do so,

But because of the goodness within her.

Because her softness makes her strong.

With stars in her eyes,

The sun in her hair,

And the moon in her soul.

I say to her,

“We do not deserve you.”

And with a gentle smile,

She replies,

“I know.”

 

She whispers

“Ow,”

As a wave crashes through her body.

Knuckles turn white

As she grasps her lover’s hand.

I see the strength and steel within her,

And I am inspired.

The midwife kneels beside her,

And she lets out a warning yell,

A battle cry.

And with one single push,

You fly into this world,

And the midwife’s deft hands catch you.

You,

A sweet, pink, tiny goddess.

Quiet, then whimpering,

Then making the walls shake

with your big voice.

No more waves,

The tsunami is over.

And in its place,

There is only love.