WOMAN

9/9/13

Woman.

Wo-man.

A term applied to those with female genitalia.

Most people designate human females at age eighteen "woman".

But, I never felt like a woman at eighteen.

When my reflection smiled, I saw traces of braces and images of pimply faces.

Although these days had long past, I still felt them in my breast when I flipped through old pictures.

Old pictures whre my glasses overpowered my face.

A braid was plaited into my curls and I unfortunately suffered from a halo of frizz.

When she saw this Lion King-esque layer of frizz, my mother would ask, "Did you have a rough day?"

I did have a rough day.

I looked at my nearly twenty-year old form and didn't recognize it.

When did all of this happen?

I am beautiful.

I always was.

But, I still felt like a beautiful girl. 

Something to be petted and admired, but a thought past that would be borderline pedophilia. 

Until you.

When we speak together, you look me in the eyes.

You genuinely give a dam about my voice and my opinions.

My womanly form is appreciated and you compliment my curtain of curls.

There's something seductive about your tone.

It's like you're trying to draw me into you; you want to teach me a lesson in literature, lust and love.

When we interact in your class, I feel like a woman.

How I wish to transport to your bedroom

where the student will become unleashed

and you will teach me something new.