So, I'm posting my limits right here. Right now. You can think of this as my Womanifesto. That's what a wonderful feminist author, Inga Muscio, calls these declarations. I like that name for the form.
Here's mine. I wrote it in 2003. I'd love to read yours...
If You Dare to Love Me
If you dare to love me, I can promise you
There will be days when you'll watch me stare at the sun. Or the wall.
And days when I'll have to bleed just to know I'm alive.
Days when I hide in the back of the closet.
And days when I'll ask you to help me tote my soapbox anywhere
I can gather a crowd.
If you dare to love me, the invincible forces of Light will be
forever
Banging on closed doors, clawing their way through quiet conversations,
Demanding their due.
I sold them my soul. They'll never let me
Settle for long on a lazy Sunday afternoon,
Gossiping about the pastor's message. Or his wife's new car.
If you dare to love me, questions will always be
swirling
Nearby. Meaty questions, dripping with exotic sauces,
Ready to be ripped open, down to the bone, and devoured.
Your teeth will be your best friends in this:
No gumming, no swallowing back your desire. The joy comes
From abandoning ourselves to the frenzy of wonder.
If you dare to love me, you'll lose any promise of safety in
abstraction
Or expertise. I get Goodwill to pick that stuff up once a month
And distribute it to the poor.
Trying to hide it under the bed or in one of those
folders
At the back of your desk won't work. I can smell it
Before I get two steps inside the door.
If you dare to love me, you'll always be certain of
nothing
And everything will be fair to explore. Right up to the moment
Of Death. And then we'll see what happens.
All I know is this. And this. And this. And then this:
The rarest of fragrances, far beyond the pale of words,
Floats just past our sight and hearing.
I have to go there. I have to inhale it.
Please come with me. I don't know if we'll make it back alive.
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