“Your identity?”

I slurp my tea

look up

look down

to pick up

from my own pandora’s box

the one piece of paper

that will define me

 

the woman who is taught to keep quiet

the woman who nurtures, no,there is no card for that

the woman who loves, nopes none for that either!

the woman who pays the bills, yeah, here’s one!

the woman who hopes, mends and cares, hmmm…none for that

the woman who gives strength and support, not a single one

the crooked, crazy, cairn-like-all-women-in-me-types, not yet

sorry  I say

and then I pick up one

that shows me as the woman who rides and drives

the woman to teaches

A  sigh of relief later, they said

“Open the doors, let her go.

There is no danger from her!”