Woman

Contrary to popular belief

Women know everything there is to know about construction

We know all too well

about calloused hands

About danger zones

The ones at a darkened alleyway,

Or outside a bar

Or inside a bar

Your abandoned drink is no longer yours

Or walking late at night

Or jogging early morning

Danger zones while going to work

at work,

Walking home,

Or to your car

Inside your car

Inside your own home,

Within your own voice

If you dare speak up about

The cut up hands from decades of uprooting

barbed wire around your own body

 

We know all too well about constructing

We’ve had to pave the roads we

want to walk on

And when

The architects and engineers

Set their price for blueprints,

Bidding our “no thank you’s” and clenched fists

For

A world that only embraces women who scrub walls and floors with silence

We built homes

like colosseums

that do not stand unless they echo our voices

We know all too well the time

those colosseums take to build.

The years it takes to

Pave roads while walking on them

Or build bridges from scratch that seem too familiar

To our mothers and grandmothers

When they recognize

and are baffled

at how even after spending years collapsing such as a world,

The one thing that remains is the glass ceiling.

Women understand construction from personal experience

 

It is too often that we are left with a burning building for a body

Shattered windows and blackened lungs

I’ve learned

No one

can chisel a skyscraper out of their spines better than

A woman

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