no east, no west

You say strong, you mean:

kick-ass

leather-clad

midriff bared like body amour

whippet-thin

manga-eyed

little girl-woman seeming fragile, vulnerable, weak when

– surprise! –

she is anything but.

I say strong, I mean:

like coffee

rich, complex

developed over time

a thousand different flavours

from a thousand different beans

savoured in all its forms

from double-shot-espresso

to frothy fulsome cream

coffee

not one thing to any one person.

You say strong, you mean:

invincible, unbreakable, impenetrable

polished steel

kicking it with the boys

just one of the boys

just another boy

just a boy

in a girl-suit

who by any other name would still smell

of testosterone.

I say strong, I mean:

a woman who breaks

allows herself to break

picks up the pieces

allows others to pick up the pieces

puts herself back together

with or without help

not the same way

never the same way

perspective cracks different each time

her steel is a chain

resilient

flexible

repurposed to suit each new place

each new person

each new way of being

herself.

You say strong, you mean:

independent

splendid in her isolation

cracking cynical

when beaten

looking good

when bleeding

secret trauma worn rigid in her spine

softened

only for the most deserving

that special someone

just a little bit taller, broader, worthier

than her.

I say strong, I mean:

like equations

unfalsifiable

their validity autonomous of approval

mathematical engines

that will drive the world

if ever the world will let them.

I say strong.

Are you listening?

closed for a very long time

by January Gill O'Neil

It cannot save itself when it expires

like a tire’s slow leak. It cannot bring back

the greediness of youth

                                          mouth on mouth,

                                          skin on skin, that gnawing,

                                          that longing you carried

until the next time

and then there is no next time.

You never see it coming but always see it leaving.

It waits by the door, bags packed,

full of stones from your life.

                                          What it can do is mark

the distance between Point A and Point B,

which feels like a galaxy,

                                          every star you ever wished upon