I am a woman

With twelve fingers wrapped in lace.

Each one stands for a hardship

I’ve faced,

Or a joy,

I’ve jocundly enjoyed.

One is for a flightless child

Without the gift of wings.

Two is scared with a paper cut

From when I tore apart

Those lipstick stained lies of love

From my red leather journal.

Three is for the salt spots on my complexion

From the tears I cried.

Four is a glossy pink lip encasing a brilliant smile.

Five is for a stain of spilled over coffee to keep me awake.

Six is for those blue cotton sheets

You never remembered to wash.

Seven is for the day I didn’t feel like waking up.

Eight is for the chip in my window from the rock you threw.

Ten is for the time I believed again.

Eleven is for the pain you made me feel

As you left me standing there in satin

As people stared at me with wide open eyes

Waiting for the I do’s,

And twelve,

My darling,

Is for you.