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| Women Talk |
| Joy Barrios |
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| After
EDSA |
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Here's to the friendship
that could have been ours:
wife of my lover,
love of my husband,
love of my lover.
For women at both ends
are always rivals:
smiling for points
at a beauty contest,
icing the cake
at a cooking competition,
sprinting for the gold
as they race to the man's heart.
Do we dare
look at each other differently?
Are you not the yardstick
by which he measures my beauty?
Am not the spice
by which he thinks you bland or salty?
Are we not strings tripping each other
at the finish line?
Look beyond the competition or the race.
Our lives are not entwined
only by this man
but bound
by rituals of womanhood:
first blood of puberty,
blood and hymens breaking,
blood at childbirth.
There is much to share
other than jealousy, anger, rage.
Talk to my sister;
wife of my lover,
lover of my husband,
lover of my lover,
still, my sister.
--1988
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