We want to be in print;
To feel the weight of our words in
Paper and ink
And to know their value
In dollar signs and transformed minds.
Journals, magazines, newspapers, novels.
The smell of the page like petrichor, awakening the seeds of our creativity.
A good book turns us on you see –
the bend and curve of the spine
akin to a lover’s hand on our upper thigh.
We want it to go deeper.
We want it to open us,
And leave us satisfied.
We arrived there in print.
Tumeric yellow, highlighter blue, binnepoes pink, menstrual red –
Bright colours that clearly said
‘We have arrived’.
The patterns of old fears removed
By the material that we imbued
With love, honesty, painful truths.
Our prints imprint on our imaginations
The possibility that we are bold.
We are, we are told.
But we refuse to be enslaved by context or history.
We are telling our own stories, and telling them loud.
We are each others’ megaphones
To fight the drone
Of stale narratives dictating our identity.
We will be in print.
It is our turn to ask the questions.
It is our turn to give our answers.
By Jennifer Thorpe
AWDF/FEMRITE Creative Writing Workshop 2014 participant