My Body – My Canvas
- Anika Parashar
- Oct 15, 2019
- 2 min read
Updated: Jan 27, 2020
My body reads the landscape of my life story
It is not free for your criticism or your dreams
For it is the home only of my own
It is scarred with the loss and pain that I have survived
In the DNA of the memories of my cells
It is layered with abuse and abandonment, grief and defeat
Of judgments made wrong and failures that have knocked me down
There are days when it swells up in certain areas
The fat cells holding more in, protecting and sheltering me
I am comfy with that
I’m a woman with multiple stories, told over 36 years
Yes I don’t have the build of a teenage old boy, flat and lanky
There are days when I’m sculpted like a figurine
The days when the muscle memories are focused on all that is good
For many men, they see are a range of numbers that arouse their fantasies
They miss out on the depth and the layering behind
The soft mounds and the slick valleys
They are consumed by the sensual curves, their imagination taking them behind the fabric that covers my parts
I smile knowingly
For my most mysterious and erotic places are beneath the layers of my skin
There you will find my story
My heart, my brain, my soul
My most secret spaces
From my body I birthed my babies
Created, nurtured and powered life
I wear my stretch marks like badges of honour celebrating the lives I created
From within me like a Goddess
My birthmarks speak of my roots and how I carry my values and traditions forward
The blemishes sing the songs of my childhood and how I grew into me
My tattoos show that I have lived and what holds meaning for me
My body is not open for your comment, your opinion, your touch
I will not apologize to anyone for what they don’t like
I will not make it available for anyone who’s caress I don’t want
And when I do, it will be to someone who considers it the gift that it is
I am easy with my body
I love every inch of it
My body reads the landscape of my life story
