No, my love.

No, my love, you are not

a factory.

You are not just a tool to re-produce, not just a container where babies are born.

You are not just land. You are a river, my love.

…

No, my love, you are not

your body.

You are not just flesh that is meant to bring pleasure, not just a statue that is meant to look pretty.

You are entitled to choose, you have the right to refuse, like every one else.

…

No, my love, you are not

a servant.

You are not bound to obey and have your sacrifices being taken for granted.

You are not a donkey, designed to carry loads, that others refuse to bear.

…

No, my love, you are not

silence.

You are not meant to just stand by, nod and consent, when faced with lies and contempt.

You are not meant to shut up. You are meant to speak up, for yourself and your rights.

Yes, my love, you are more than your eyes, your hair or your skin.

You are more than that creature, dubbed ‘seduction’ and ‘sin’.

My love, you are equal and more, you are meant to explore.

This world is yours and not theirs, from shore to shore.

My love, you are just as good, as smart, as strong.

And the lights of your kin have been dimmed for too long.

Your ideas matter and your contribution is key,

Your eyes have been built to observe and to see.

Make your tears your strength, leave your fears behind,

For now only the fearless can save (hu)mankind.