The Weight of Divinity

I have grown weary of hearing my vessel be mislabelled as holy
Are only heavenly objects worthy of love?

Nothing about me is godly

This body is but the sum of fleshy sinew and tarnished bone
Divine femininity does not make me more durable or less revolting
I sweat, excrete, purge the same way you do
And I do not appear any more beautiful while doing so

I am no stronger than you because I possess the ability to birth another
I do not wish to create more life
Humanity will suffice without my half-hearted contribution
I wish to only sustain the small space I occupy
Foraging enough food for one

My nurturing womb is neither blossoming nor nurturing
It is dormant
And it will gather dust
And I will not apologise

When I am reduced to androgynous ash
Those who tether themselves to the idea of me will scarper
In search of new hobbies

And I will rest
Filthy, angelic, mundane, alone
Relieved of responsibility

Regretting your womanhood is a tiresome pastime

About the author
Janhavi Gosavi hails from Te Whanganui-a-Tara. She is in her second year of studying a Bachelor of Arts at Victoria University of Wellington, majoring in History, Anthropology and Theatre. Janhavi is the poetry editor and a regular contributor at Salient magazine and enjoys performing spoken word poetry. Janhavi is a proud Hufflepuff, a Netflix addict, and a bubble tea fiend.